Nightfall: Moving Shadows
by xStormyx
Summary: Though they don't know it, Klavier and Ema are on separate paths to the same destination - and each step is kissed by the shadow of their enemies... Enemies who will stop at nothing to destroy them and the ones they love.
1. Breathless

Hi there guys; welcome to Part II of the Nightfall Trilogy. If you haven't read the prequel, Ascending Darkness I highly recommend doing so. Without that, you'll be lost.

I own nothing except OCs, the original plot and poems.

Further Details:

T for violence, swearing and somewhat adult situations - nothing explicit.

Genre: Romance / Angst / Mystery/ Supernatural / Drama / Humour

Moving Shadows continues where Ascending Darkness left off. There are no cases in this story (from Apollo Justice) but a lot of the things in this set the ground for the conclusion to AJ as well as having a part in the events that happened _7 years ago_. There's more character development, answers to some questions that arose in AD, the other Gavinners (Raoul and Seren) will play a greater part and, of course, the Klavier/Ema storyline continues.

If you've made it this far, thank you. Please stay with me - Moving Shadows is definitely (in my opinion at least) better than Ascending Darkness. Don't let the number of chapters scare you off. I have tried my best to throw some humour into all the angst and drama. Whatever you think of this, please let me know. Review only help me to get better.

Finally, my profile has a link to my Nightfall (Facebook) fanpage. Give it a look.

And now... we start.

* * *

Breathless

'.'

Pounding heart, sweating skin,

Lips apart, inviting sin.

Hovering fingers, roving eyes

Upon her lingers, as she dies.

.'.

_He was dying. _

_It was his death painting the floor, pooling around them… it had to be. There was no way that her essence could be spilled like this, ever journey across the dirty ground; it was too pure, too precious, too important…_

_And the fact that the blood covered her, bathed her, was of no consequence – every fibre of his being screamed for her, raced to her… His blood was simply drawn to her, like a moth to a flame…It was his blood... Not hers... His..._

_He wanted to summon his blood back to himself, away from her, and he wanted to chastise it for soiling her virgin skin, for staining her perfection. His blood was impure and it had no business, no right, going anywhere near her… he wanted to scream but his mouth was dry, his mind dying with him…_

_And yet his sight wasn't dimming – it was fixed intently on her face; her eyes were fluttering close and her head was rolling and she was gasping. Why wasn't she looking at him? Was it the blood? And again, he wanted to scream at it to get away from her, to stop dirtying her…_

_Her eyes opened and he reeled at the unendurable agony that glazed her eyes. He shook his head, his mind denying what his eyes were seeing… those wounds weren't real, they were just a manifestation of his mind, he just didn't want to accept… yes… it had to be him dying… his eyes could not be trusted… his mind could not process…He shook his head and fixed her with his eyes. He wanted hers to be the last face he saw before he died. He opened his mouth to tell her he loved her, that he was sorry and that she was always going to be the one for him but then she whispered his name._

_And his world ended._

* * *

Simon was quiet as Klavier drove. The prosecutor had expected a barrage of questions and, in preparation for the privacy that would require, he had instructed their police escort to follow separately. Yet, despite this, Simon had remained surprisingly silent so far and Klavier had not initiated conversation, wondering what was going through his mind.

Klavier didn't ask though; somewhere along the way, he'd developed an unexpected respect for the man; his perception of Simon had come a long way since the day he'd stepped into his cell. It was true he'd only met Simon twice but he'd learnt and seen enough to realise the man was nowhere near as bad as he sounded on paper. He may have taken part in the kidnapping – and this still made his jaw clench – but the suffering that saturated his skin was a stronger punishment than anything the legal system could give him.

Rafael Rainsford, on the other hand, was a different story.

Klavier wished he could punish the bastard internally, make him feel regret that would physically and psychologically torture him but he'd seen enough to know that there was no redemption for Rafael – and the only thing Klavier could do was make sure he got the death penalty. Not only as a punishment but also for the safety of everyone else. Klavier knew the test trial for the Jurist system was fast approaching and he also knew what the chain reaction of events could lead to – if the Jurist system was successful and implemented into the legal body, then the death penalty would, in all likelihood, be abolished. He didn't want to risk Rafael surviving that, leaving the future open for parole and possible release. There was no telling; some corrupt defense attorney could easily come along, driven by greed, and get Rafael off.

No, he had to find the proof to ensure that Rafael was executed as soon as legally possible. If he presented enough evidence of the threat Rafael posed to society, perhaps he could have the execution date moved up. As it was, there were only just over 2 weeks left but not knowing the exact date for the trial simulation made Klavier extremely nervous – if he knew when it was, he might be less anxious, however, considering who was heading the arrangements for the Jurist system, Klavier couldn't very well approach him and ask. It was simply a race against time.

His best bet was to stick with his current course and with this thought, he glanced at Simon from the corner of his eye, wondering if his plan was the right way to go. He had meant to go alone but his perusal of the latest information on the case had made him wonder about the possibility of taking Simon along. He knew the risks – Simon could close up completely.

On the other hand, he might open up about everything.

"Did you talk to Kade yet?" Simon asked suddenly and Klavier took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at him in surprise. He'd almost forgotten about Richards. Somehow, the man didn't seem as important to the whole case although, thinking about it now, he must be. Klavier kicked himself for overlooking this.

"No," he admitted. "His name does not appear much in the files I have."

Simon chuckled. "That's not because he's not important," he said. "It's because he's good at being invisible."

"What do you mean?" Klavier asked, frowning.

"Kade is good at covering his tracks. The only reason he was caught this time was because I named him – along with Rafael."

"What?" Klavier asked, surprised. He hadn't come across anything of the sort. In fact he didn't know any of the details of their capture. His frown deepened at this realisation.

"Yeah," Simon's voice was low. "They're virtually untraceable – both of them. They know how to escape exposure. I named them and the DNA found on Gale matched theirs – or so I hear."

"But why were you apprehended if you were helping the police to identify them?"

"I was found next to her," Simon said, turning to look at Klavier. "For someone investigating this murder, you don't seem to know very much, do you?"

"Believe me, Herr Lowes," Klavier ground out. "The ones responsible for collating this data will undergo some serious evaluation."

Simon grinned. "I feel sorry for them. Go easy on them – they _are _dealing with Rafael."

"Will you please tell me what I am missing?" Klavier asked and he tensed suddenly when he realised how much rested upon Simon's willingness to cooperate and again, he wondered whether his current path was the right one.

"Yes," Simon said after a pause and Klavier sighed in relief. Then he saw the Latino look away and he realised how difficult it must be for him to discuss this. He made a mental note to thank him later. "I was left with Gale after Rafael…" Simon quietened for a moment. "He untied me before he and his men left. They knew I wouldn't follow them when she was…" He stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Simon's fists clench and he could almost taste Simon's grief on the air – it made Klavier feel sick, and almost angry at himself, for making Simon relive what was probably the worst experience of his life.

He took a deep breath. "You did not follow them?" Klavier asked

"Gale wasn't dead." Simon said hollowly. "I couldn't just leave her. She was bleeding…" His voice was becoming unsteady. "I tried to carry her to a hospital but I was weak from the beating…"

"Beating?" Klavier asked and then almost banged his head against the wheel when he realised the obvious answer to that question.

"Rafael was hardly going to just let me walk up to Gale and untie her and I wasn't going to just stand by and let him kill her. That sort of conflict can only, really, end in violence. Kade and Rafael ganged up on me."

"Of course," Klavier mumbled. "I am sorry."

"Anyway, I didn't make it far. I collapsed somewhere along the way. Woke up to an army of officers."

Klavier's breathing had turned ragged. All of the crime scenes he'd ever seen came together to form one with Gale as the body and the scarlet liquid, her blood. And now, with it, came the addition of the man beside him, holding her as she died and the desperation Simon must have felt stung Klavier. He'd never imagined she had died in Simon's arms; the revelation stunned him and somehow, the saturation of the image with love made it all the more heartbreaking. How had Simon survived such an experience? Klavier had no doubt Simon remembered the moment of her death every minute of every day, reliving the inevitable desperation. How did he still manage to walk and talk after dying daily? If Klavier had had to watch Ema being…

It was with a sharp breath and a curse that Klavier messaged the police escort to pull over at the approaching gas station. In the seconds it took for him to reach it, Klavier lost all awareness of everything except the suffocating sensation that had overtaken him; he needed to get out of the car.

As soon as the car halted to a stop, he was out of his vehicle, slamming the door behind him with more force than necessary. He took a deep breath, trying to eradicate the images of Ema and calm himself down. His heart was racing and despite the fresh air, he still felt as though something was clamped tightly around his chest. He could not imagine how Simon must feel if just the thought of Ema in that situation was doing this to him.

Klavier had survived the loneliness after his mother's passing and the sorrow of his father's death. He had dealt with his best friend's betrayal and even the absence of his brother, his last remaining family, his last connection to his mother. And yet he knew that if anything ever happened to Ema, he would not be able to last. He would die, whether by a broken heart or his own hand.

He didn't know if it was because he'd lost so much that he couldn't take any more or because he needed Ema in a way he'd never needed anyone else – apart from his mother. Whatever it was, he knew he couldn't survive without her.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, breaking his line of thought. He turned to see the owner of the hand and found Simon staring at him, intensity radiating from him and Klavier wondered at the comforting look in his eyes.

"You're in love, aren't you?" Simon asked unexpectedly and Klavier's eyes widened in surprise.

"What?"

Simon smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. It was an unfamiliar smile; amused and kind. "I can see the look in your eyes. I used to see it every day in the mirror from the day I met Gale." When Klavier didn't answer straight away, Simon cocked his head to the side. "Don't imagine yourself in my situation. It'll make you paranoid."

Klavier's eyebrows shot up. "Your perception is almost unsettling, Herr Lowes."

Simon smirked. "Well, Gale taught me a lot." He looked off to the side, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and Klavier followed his gaze to the police officers who were standing by their cars, looking wary. "Looks like your friends think I'm going to cause trouble."

Klavier chuckled. "I am sorry. I found myself in a dire need of some fresh air."

Simon turned back to him. "Don't kill yourself over the what-ifs. You're not me and you don't have somebody like Rafael manipulating your life."

Klavier nodded. "Still I worry about her." As soon as these words left his lips, surprise arose in him. Simon was the last man he'd have thought he would open up to and yet he didn't feel unnerved at the idea. It was almost natural and the normality of it made him question what lay at the root of it.

"Why?" Simon asked, cocking his head.

"Because she is a detective," Klavier answered, crossing his arms. "It is hardly a safe profession."

"Hmmm. I would have to agree with you," Simon said and Klavier rose an eyebrow at the honesty of his answer. Still, he could hardly expect a comforting lie from Simon – Klavier didn't know him well but it was obvious he wasn't the type. "But like Gale always said, we die when we're meant to – no amount of worrying will ever prevent it." He pierced Klavier with his gaze again. "So live it to the full."

Klavier didn't answer – he crossed his arms and leaned back against his car, contemplating Simon. There was something strange about the man. He was an enigma and yet Klavier almost felt as though he understood him. There were times Simon said something that was almost predictable and at other times, he outright surprised Klavier by showing a side of himself that seemed non-existent. Klavier couldn't help but think that this deeper, more buried side of Simon was of Gale's doing.

"Herr Lowes," Klavier said, a question forming on his lips. "Might I ask you something?" Simon nodded. "If you could see Gale again… What would you say to her?"

He'd expected some sort of a reaction but all he saw was a flicker in the other's eyes; his face remained devoid of expression as he looked up at the sky, his hands still in his pockets and his body still. "I would tell her I love her."

"That's all?" Klavier asked.

Simon's face lowered until he was looking at him again and a small, bitter-sweet smile spread on his lips. "Nothing else matters."

The intensity of those three words shocked Klavier. He'd never thought of it like that. And it was true; what mattered except telling the person you love how you feel? What mattered aside from letting her know that she's the one who makes your world go around? What was more important than to let her feel safe and loved and special? And the irony was, he was hearing the coursing truth of those words from a man he was only meeting the second time. If that wasn't irony, he didn't know what was.

"Now, I want to ask you something," Simon said. Klavier nodded in turn and smiled at the question that came next; "Will you tell me where the heck we're going?"

Klavier nodded again. "You have been honest with me and I – "

"Prosecutor Gavin!" They both turned to see one of the officers sprinting over and Klavier turned to Simon who was rolling his eyes.

"All this mystery and these interruptions make me feel like I'm in some sort of story where the author doesn't want me to know just what the hell's going on," he scoffed. He turned to Klavier with a grin. "Quick, tell me what it is!"

Klavier laughed. "Well, we must acquiesce to the author's wishes. I am sure she has a perfectly good reason for all this intrigue."

"She?" Simon raised an eyebrow. "Are you confessing to something?" He eyed Klavier critically, before speaking, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Yeah, it all makes sense now."

"What does?" Klavier asked with an amused smile.

"Why your hair is always so perfectly styled and why you – "

"Achtung!" Klavier laughed. "You know how to hit _unter der Gűrtellinie!_"

"_Il colpevole ha deciso di dire la verità_." Simon smirked at the dumbfounded look on Klavier's face. "Not nice being on the receiving end is it?"

Klavier chuckled and shook his head, turning towards the officer who'd reached them. "What is it, Officer?" He looked down at the phone that was in the man's hand.

"It's for you, sir."

"For me?" Klavier frowned. "But I have my phone on me, why…?"

"It's Mr Cavatin, sir," the officer quickly added, seemingly in a hurry. "He tried to ring yours but he couldn't get through to you. He says it's urgent."

He took the phone and, muttering an "excuse me" to Simon, Klavier took a few steps away, lifting the device to his ear.

"Ja, Deston, what is it?"

"We need you back here, K," Deston said and something in his voice made Klavier frown.

"I am on a job, Deston," Klavier said. "Can it not wait?"

"No, Klavier." Klavier's frown deepened at the use of his full name. What had Deston so worked up? "Look, please just get back. You know I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't important."

"What is the matter?" Klavier demanded, his worry increasing and all manner of thoughts passed through his mind – most of them featuring Ema.

"Just… Gavin, just haul your ass back and I'll explain. I'm at the Moor Hospital. This isn't – "

"If you are going to call me back from a job, I need a reason why," Klavier insisted. "I want to know what is wrong."

There was a pause on the other end in which Klavier could almost hear Deston arguing mentally with himself. And when he answered him, Klavier wished he hadn't asked.

"There's been an incident. Your apartment…" Deston sighed and fear crept into Klavier's heart. "Somebody blew up your apartment."

His world rocked.

Everything was turning bright, blinding him, and his eyes closed in protest.

His first thought was that his worst fears had come true. He'd lost Ema. He was rendered speechless by the thought, by the fact that he'd almost prophesied this. His second thought was he needed to die – he couldn't take another moment. He wasn't going to –

"K? Ema's alright, she's in hospital. I just need you back right now."

It was then that Klavier let go of the breath he'd been holding and when he next spoke, his voice was shaking, his mind blank; "I will be there as soon as possible." He didn't wait for a response before he hung up and turned on Simon and the officer. "I am sorry but I have to get back to the city," he said to no-one in particular. "There has been an…" he didn't finished the sentence and out of the corner of his eye, the part of him that still registered the environment saw Simon boring holes in him. The officer nodded and he was off towards the cars again, shouting something – no doubt the new orders Klavier had issued – and there was a flurry of activity from the men in blue.

Klavier opened the door to his car and slid in, slamming it shut behind him. He stared at the wheel for a long moment as his mind whirred with thoughts of Ema; how badly hurt was she? Was she afraid? And last night flickered before his eyes. Less than 24 hours ago she'd been crying in his arms, probably because she'd been living in fear, and now she was in hospital again.

Rage blinded him and, with it, rose a fierce determination to find the culprit and come down on him so hard, the bastard would wish he'd been born a fly and spent his life in a stable sucking up horse shit. And if the court system allowed him to get away with it, Klavier would personally kill him with his bare hands.

The passenger door slammed shut as Simon slid in beside him. He turned to look at him and he opened his mouth for some sort of apology but no words came out. Simon, seeming to understand, held up a hand and shook his head.

"I hope she's okay," Simon said. Klavier gave a short nod, his mind numb, as he turned on the ignition and moved onto the road, back the way he'd come. His speed increased with each passing second and his thoughts were all on the attacker. His jaw was clenched, his hands wrapped so tightly around the wheel that his knuckles turned white and his eyes steely, fixed on the road before him.

_I will find you, you bastard. And when I do, I'm going to make you pay for every injury you ever caused her._

* * *

Klavier couldn't remember much between the call he'd received from Deston and walking up to the room where Ema lay. His feet were heavy, his heart had sunk somewhere beyond his reach and he was feeling colder than he had in years. He kept replaying his goodbye to her and his protests that she remain at home to rest. He'd been so certain she was safe in his apartment, so confident in his belief that nothing could reach her at the top of the building… He'd never thought anybody could be so determined as to blast his flat. The thought of a criminal with such a dogged agenda made Klavier's blood run cold.

What had Ema done to induce such a violent reaction? What was she involved in that Klavier didn't know about? He tried to list all of the cases that he was working with on her and he could not pin the attacks on any of them. His mind went back to the Cadaverinis again and he wondered if they were really threatened by her. Had she unearthed something particularly nasty about them?

"Mr Gavin." Klavier's eyes snapped up to Phoenix who was standing at a nearby desk. He held up a finger to the lady behind it and turned to Klavier, hands in his pocket once more. "I'm glad you could get here so fast. We sho – "

"Where is she?" Klavier cut across him blankly. He didn't want to listen to Phoenix or one of his lectures. He just wanted to see Ema. Phoenix, apparently noticing Klavier's mood, simply gestured towards a door to his left and Klavier was through it in a flash. His eyes didn't register what they saw and he was frozen for a split second as he took it all in; Ema was in a bed, cuts scattered across every visible patch of skin, bruises staining the milkiness of her skin all the way to the tips of her fingers which were engulfed by Deston's own hand. He barely noticed his friend's injuries though; all he could see was the way he was leaning towards Ema, his hand comfortingly wrapped around hers.

"K," Deston said, relief flooding his voice as he turned to him. "Thank God you're here."

Klavier nodded at him, walked to the other side of her bed, his eyes roaming over her. With each injury he saw, his being tingled unpleasantly as the rage ascended beyond his control.

"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly, returning his gaze to her eyes. She was staring at him with a strange expression. At first he thought it was fear or sadness but with each passing second, the expression became more and more alien until Klavier felt nothing but an overwhelming dread... and he didn't know why.

"I'm okay – thanks to Deston." She looked at him. "He managed to push me out of the way just in time."

Klavier looked at his friend properly for the first time since he'd entered the room and he saw that Deston's arm was in a sling, his face was practically striped red with cuts and there was a thick bandage to the side of his neck. It was this observation that kicked off the alarm bells in Klavier's mind and his eyes widened.

"Deston!" he exclaimed. "What the hell happened to your neck?"

"It's nothing, K," Deston reassured him. "We have more important things to worry about."

"What is going on?" Klavier demanded, looking from Deston to Ema. "Ema, what is going on?" he repeated, fixing her with a steady gaze. "What are you involved in? Who is after you?"

Ema hesitated and, to Klavier's surprise, Deston was the one who answered; "It's not her," he said. "I've been investigating a crime ring for some time now. I think it's their doing – to warn me off."

"Why did you not tell me before?" Klavier said, his eyes narrowing and his anger rising once more. "You knew she was in danger and you did not make the necessary – "

"I didn't think it was them at first," Deston interrupted. "It's only after – "

"That does not excuse your complacence!" Klavier shouted, striding towards Deston who'd risen to his feet and he pointed at Ema. "She is in a hospital bed because of you! She has been hurt because of you!"

"K – "

"Klavier," Ema said quietly and he turned to her now, taking the hand she was holding out to him. His eyes swept her face once more and he wanted to lean down and kiss her swollen lips and tell her she was okay, she was safe and that nothing in the world would get to her. He wanted to tell her that he would be her shield, that he was her protector and –

"It's okay," she said quietly. "It's not Deston's fault. If it wasn't for him, I would be dead." She looked over Klavier's shoulder to his friend and the prosecutor grit his teeth, remembering that if anyone had a right to be angry here, it was her _boyfriend_ – and it wasn't Klavier. He was acting like _he _was her partner and Deston merely the bodyguard who had failed to take care of her when, ultimately, it was the other way around. It was Deston who had trusted Klavier to take care of Ema, even going so far as to letting her live with him, and it was Klavier who had failed to protect her. Closing his eyes, he clenched his jaw and turned to face Deston. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to apologise but Deston held up a hand and smiled, shaking his head.

"It's alright, K," Deston said. "I get it."

For a moment Klavier was taken aback – it was almost as if Deston knew how he felt about Ema and that he was okay with it. But then he shook himself mentally and reminded himself that that wasn't possible. Deston was simply an understanding guy and it was so like him to appreciate Klavier's concern for Ema rather than get annoyed. He sighed heavily and turned back to Ema. She was looking at him with that odd expression again and he thought he saw a hint of desperation lurking beneath the veneer of calm. He frowned at her, trying to understand it but then she blinked and it was gone. Klavier continued to stare at her for a moment and she looked down at his hands, wrapped around hers. He followed her gaze and, strangely, the contrast between his tanned and her fair skin seemed to make his heart skip a beat. He didn't understand that either – his mind was such a scattered mess right now that he was all sound, sight, touch and smell – nothing was making sense. He was all sensation and no comprehension.

Something was yelling at him, trying to remind him of something and he was trying to ignore it because to listen to it would mean that he would have to look away from her, to let go of her hand and he wasn't willing...

"I'm sorry about your flat," Ema said, breaking the spell. Klavier's eyes snapped up to hers and in that moment, it hit him – _Deston's watching. _His finger slipped through hers and he glanced over his shoulder, only to see that they were alone. He frowned, wondering where his friend had gone, before turning back to Ema once more.

"Do not be so ludicrous, Fräulein," he murmured, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "I would rather all of my wealth was blown to bits than any harm befell you." And unable to help himself, driven by the desperation and fear that had filled him ever since Deston's call, Klavier lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on her fingers. He looked back up at her and saw that a faint blush had swept across her cheeks. He smiled and winked at her. "And I would give it all up for that blush too."

She scowled, all traces of a smile gone, and Klavier resisted the urge to grin. "If I had my Snackoos, you'd be careful what you say," she grumbled.

Klavier chuckled and glanced over his shoulder again to see if Deston had retuned. "Where has your boyfriend got to?" he asked and although he said it with a smile, his insides burned at the word. He was intrigued, however, when he saw the way Ema shifted uncomfortably and her next words instantly alleviated the fire in his chest.

"He's not my boyfriend, Klavier."

"What do you mean?" Klavier asked quickly, his heart starting to beat fast.

"We decided to separate," she said, avoiding his gaze.

Klavier watched her silently for a moment, wondering at the awkwardness of her tone and while a thousand questions went through his head at this statement, he decided not to pursue them – for now.

"I am sorry, Fräulein," he said.

"I'm okay," she smiled at him. "It was mutual and no drama. That's what makes break-ups so horrible. Do you know that, scientifically, 99% of the time, a nasty break up leaves – "

Klavier began to smile at the way her eyes were shining and the comments she was making. He was astonished, and relieved, to see that the attack and the break up hadn't reduced her to a trembling wreck. Most women he knew would have lived in fear for the rest of their lives after the first time but here she was, smiling and spouting statistics.

This also made him think about the nature of Deston and Ema's break up. Neither seemed particularly cut up about it which backed up what she said. What he wanted to know was the reason – no –

He wanted to know if _he _was the reason why.

"Are you listening to me fop?" Ema's indignant voice brought him back down to earth and when he focused on her face and it finally sunk in that he could touch her face without guilt, that he could hold her without staining his conscience and that he could tell her how he felt without betraying his friend, Klavier was filled with elation.

He chuckled, rising to his feet and bending over her. He smiled inwardly at the way she seemed to suck in a breath which she didn't release and his smile bubbled to the surface, spreading across his lips when they finally touched her forehead. He kissed her gently before moving back to look into her surprised eyes. "Ja, Fräulein," he murmured. "How could anyone ignore such a beautiful voice?"

Klavier stayed in that position for several long seconds, inches away from her... and he deliberated.

Simon's words rang in his ears suddenly and he recalled his thought that nothing mattered more than telling the one you loved how you felt. He remembered the look on her face the night before, the proximity of their bodies, the hitched breathing when he'd touched her, kissed her hand... And she had kissed him too. She had hugged him. She had touched him in unconventional ways. He could not be mistaken... She must feel something for him. And he could lean in now, press his lips to her soft ones and tell her she was his heart's one true desire. He could seal it all with just one kiss.

But he didn't.

Klavier slowly straightened, never wavering in his gaze. He could kiss her right now – he knew that. And he had a feeling she wouldn't reject him. But Klavier hadn't forgotten the fact that she had just been attacked – and broken up with Deston. As much as he wanted it, he had to respect the situation. He had stayed quiet through so much – he could last a few more days.

_Make no mistake, Ema Skye, _his eyes said to her. _You'll know just how precious you are to me._

She was staring back at him, uncomprehending, almost frozen. When he smiled at her, she looked away and cleared her throat, clearly about to say something but, at that moment, there was a gentle knock at the open door and they both looked to Deston who was staring at them gravely.

"I think it's time we left," he said. "I'll explain everything once we get to our destination."

"Where are we going?" Ema asked as a nurse wheeled a chair in. "I don't need that," she said, flapping a hand and grimacing. "Although I will need one of you to help me up." Deston moved forward but Klavier was faster – he placed a hand around her waist and helped her into a sitting position and when he said she should probably take the chair, Ema snapped again; "I can walk."

Masking the smile on his face, Klavier gripped her gently, but firmly, around her waist. "Then allow me to assist you, my lady_." _He looked at the nurse who was lingering, hesitantly. "You can go, Fräulein," he said. When she was gone, he turned to look at Deston who was stood in the doorway, an apprehensive look on his face. "Now. Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe."

* * *

Unter der Gűrtellinie! (German) - under the belt

Il colpevole ha deciso di dire la verità (Italian)... Well, why don't you all find out!


	2. Pain Of Tenderness

Pain Of Tenderness

Klavier practically carried Ema over the threshold of the house and she kept her head down the entire time his arms were around her, blushing and chanting the same thing inside her head, over and over; _pleasedon'tlethimhearmyheartbeat, Please. Don't. Let. Him. Hear. My. Heartbeat. _She couldn't take any more today. She'd been attacked – again – had, found out that the supposed attacker was no such thing and then been romantically... Whatever. Klavier had done that thing he always did.

The scene in the hospital was still playing on her mind. She could still see the anger radiating off him in overwhelming waves, the electricity that seemed to shoot from his eyes, the intensity of his nearness... Just being so close to him had rendered her almost speechless. She had been unable to speak up when he'd turned to Deston and started shouting at him and it had taken everything she had to tell him to stop. And when she had told him that she and Deston had 'broken up', she was almost certain she'd seen relief in his eyes. And something else...

"Ema?"

Ema snapped her head up, hissing inwardly at the pain the action caused her, and saw that Klavier was looking down at her with an amused smile.

"What?" she asked moodily, averting her gaze.

"Well, I was asking whether you wish to rest here," he gestured towards the sofa, "or in your bed?" She looked up at him, wondering if she was imagining the husky tone of his voice when he said those words. His eyes were intense orbs, boring holes into her own and she looked away quickly. "Of course, if you prefer to stay in my arms..."

"Here's fine," she said quickly, cutting across him. He chuckled as he lowered her gently and she closed her eyes wishing she could block it out, wishing there was a button in her mind that she could press and all of her feelings would turn off, all of her worries would dissipate. Maybe that way she could look at him again without the crippling uncertainty of not knowing whether or not he felt anything for her. Maybe then she could look at him without wondering if the things she saw in his eyes meant anything or if they were just the conjurations of her love-sick mind.

She suddenly felt a blanket being thrown over her and she looked up, thankful for the interruption, to see that Deston was tucking it around her with his good arm. Despite the fact that he was injured himself, he was still concerned about her – she could see it in his face. She lowered her eyes in shame, hating herself for jumping to conclusions about him. He'd done nothing but look after her and – eventually – save her life. And she had done nothing but brand him a villain.

"Deston," she said, catching his hand that was wrapping the blanket around her feet. "Sit down. You're more injured than I am."

Surprised, he smiled at her and shook his head. "Don't worry about me, Ema," he said. "I've dealt with a lot worse."

"Tone down the macho beast act and sit, ja?" Klavier said, unfolding another blanket and draping it over her while looking at Deston in amusement. "You were hurt too."

Deston laughed and sunk into the nearby settee, watching Klavier tuck the blanket around Ema. She saw the knowing twinkle in Deston's eyes and she blushed, ducking her head. It didn't help that Klavier was staring into her face with a smile of his own. She wished she wasn't surrounded by these two right now and suddenly wanted to hide behind someone. It was this thought that she clung to and spoke.

"Does Lana know?" she said, looking at Deston when Klavier finally moved away. He sat down beside his friend and looked at him too, as if also waiting for an answer to that question.

"Mr Wright has gone to tell her," Deston said and Ema noted how he reverted back to the formalities. She glanced at Klavier, realising he would question the familiarity of Deston's tone if he called Phoenix by his first name. She wondered if it was okay for her to ask Deston what was going on but Klavier beat her to it.

"What is going on, Deston?" Klavier asked for the millionth time since the hospital. "And what is this place? I had no idea you owned a house out here."

It had surprised Ema too. It was an extremely large house, seated on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the sea. She'd been awed by the sight before her attention turned to the house with a twinge of envy – it was grand and made her feel even more insignificant than she usually did and upon stepping – or rather, being _carried _inside – she had found the interior to be even more amazing. White marble floors, grand staircases and luxurious furniture... the works.

"I've had it for a while, K," Deston said leaning back. "It was meant to be kept a secret for any situation – like this. If I needed to get away, I had this."

"Secret from even the band?" Klavier said with a raised eyebrow and Ema wondered if she was imagining the disapproving tinge to his voice.

Deston laughed again. "Lighten up, K. It's not like you'd ever really need to follow me here." He winked at Ema. "Besides, I'd say this is my bachelor pad."

Klavier glanced at Ema sideways and she looked away quickly. She knew he was assuming she'd been here and as much as she wanted to yell 'NO I HAVEN'T', she couldn't do so without implying something that could embarrass her very easily. Her eyes barely registered her surroundings as Klavier posed the question Ema had been dying to ask;

"Who is attacking Ema?" Klavier said. "You mentioned a crime ring. Is it the Cadaverinis?"

Deston was shaking his head. "No, this is something else. An investigation that's been on-going for a long time. I was assigned to this case a few months ago because the guy before me was..." he shrugged.

"He was what?" Ema asked.

"He was killed. But he wasn't careful enough," he added quickly when he saw the way Ema reacted; her eyes widened and she gasped lightly. "I'm not going to make the same mistake. My only mistake has been letting you get hurt."

"Deston it's – " Ema started, trying to quash the guilt that was covering his face now; he had just saved her life. He had nothing to feel guilty about. "You saved my life. Please... I don't want you to feel bad."

Deston stared at her for several moments, his eyes darting in between her own and slowly he smiled gratefully, inclining his head as if to express his gratitude.

After a moment of silence, Klavier spoke, his eyes fixed intently on his friend. "What is this crime ring?"

Deston sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I don't even know its name, if it has one, or who the head is. It has a really bloody history and it started off as an amateur group of troublemakers but now..." he shook his head, almost as if he was frustrated and, suddenly, he was on his feet, pacing. "I don't know. Over the past few years it's turned into something else and this change came about after a new leader was appointed." He looked at Klavier. "Ever since she stepped in, the FBI have been unable to touch 'em!"

"Wait a minute," Ema interrupted and they both looked at her. "She?"

"From the intel we've gathered – and mind you, it's not nearly enough – it's a woman. And she's a genius."

"Wow..." Ema said with a dry chuckle. "A female ring leader."

"What are their activities?" Klavier asked.

"Drugs, ammunition, you name it – they've got their tentacles into every aspect of crime. They've murdered countless civilians, law enforcement agents and anybody else that gets in their cross-hairs," Deston shook his head disgustedly. "And each time, they leave next to no evidence. The few that we manage to capture either find a way to kill themselves or escape or are simply let go because we lack sufficient evidence."

"You mentioned a history," Klavier said. "What history?"

Deston frowned and shook his head, slowly sinking into a sofa opposite Ema. "It's really vague. About 20 years ago, a man stepped out of his aunt's house and had his head blown off by some guy in the middle of the night. After blowing his head off, the shooter just pocketed his gun and walked off. When the police dug deeper, they found that he was a member of the DiMarco family – a newborn crime ring. It appears the family was going through some attempted take-overs by members of their own organisation and they were eliminating traitors."

"Wait, wait," Ema interrupted. "Somebody was trying to overthrow their own leader? Family?" Deston nodded. "But why?"

"I don't know," Deston sighed. "Usually it's because someone – or a bunch of someones – has a problem with the way things are being run. In any case, there were several deaths in the years that followed. There was an internal war going on in the DiMarco family and the general consensus was that someone on the outside had started brainwashing several of the members to turn against their own. At the end of a 6 year struggle, half of the DiMarco family had been wiped out and it was now being led by a man called Silvio Romano. He was a clever guy – he'd managed to dissolve the family and take control but he started branching out into more than just drugs and guns. He attracted the attention of the FBI and other crime lords. He didn't last long – 9 years ago he was overthrown." He paused and shook his head.

"So far it sounds like a ton of Mafia nonsense," Ema muttered. Deston chuckled and even Klavier smirked. "What the hell happened 9 years ago then?"

"Romano was found dead and the crime ring seemed to disperse instantly. All of a sudden, the informants we had, the leads and all the dealings we'd been watching... They all just vanished into thin air. It was believed that, with the death of Romano, everyone had decided to just end it there and go their own way."

"But that was not the case," Klavier guessed.

Deston shook his head. "No. About 7 years ago, there was a murder and the suspect who was apprehended cracked under interrogation. He mentioned something which made the investigators suspicious. To cut a long story short, it became obvious from his outburst that the crime ring hadn't died at all. It had simply retreated, erased its name and become a ghost. It had a new leader – a woman – who had changed the face of the organisation. Needless to say, the man was found dead in his cell that very evening."

"How do you know it was a woman?" Ema asked.

"He kept mumbling about how 'she' would kill him if she found out, and how 'she' gave no inch and on and on," Deston said. "He was scared shitless of her."

"So you have been assigned to this case?" Klavier asked.

"Yeah. The lead investigator was found with his throat slit a few months ago," Deston said. "Funny thing is, it didn't even seem as though he was getting anywhere with it. Nobody knows why he was suddenly killed – unless there was something he knew that he hadn't told anyone."

"And you?" Klavier was on the edge of his seat, his hands clasped together and his eyes serious. "How much progress have you made?"

Deston shrugged again. "I've discovered a few things and, judging by their attacks, I'd say it's pretty important what I've found."

"What have you discovered?" Klavier asked but Deston was shaking his head.

"I can't tell you that, K. Hey, don't look at me like that," Deston said with a small laugh when Klavier glared at him. "You know the rules. Unless you're directly involved with the investigation, I can't give you classified information."

"Did you receive any threats before Ema's attack?" Klavier asked, glancing at her and Ema felt uncomfortable at the way the conversation had shifted toward her.

"No," Deston said shaking his head.

Ema frowned. Something wasn't right about that answer. Why did it feel as though he was being dishonest? And then, Ema suddenly remember the way Deston had barged into the apartment claiming he had to get her out of there. He'd _known _there was something up. Deston glanced at her fleetingly and she thought she saw the warning in his eyes and she understood – he didn't want Klavier to know the truth for whatever reason.

"You have received no warnings at all about your poking about in their business?"

Again, Deston shook his head. "None. That makes them even more dangerous because they're unpredictable. It's like trying to catch smoke."

Silence fell all around them and Ema looked away from the two men. She didn't want Klavier to see the frown that was forming across her forehead nor the confusion in her eyes and she didn't want to look at Deston in case Klavier saw the silent questions on her face.

She wondered why Deston had lied to Klavier about a warning. She wanted to know what else he was hiding from Klavier and she wanted to know if he would tell her.

She looked down at her slightly lacerated hands and wondered why they'd targeted her. Yes, she'd been featured in the tabloids with Deston a lot and everyone in general thought they were terribly in love (the thought made her laugh inwardly whenever it crossed her mind). But still... Why her? Surely she wasn't the only worthwhile thing in Deston's life that could be blown to pieces...?

She glanced at Klavier just as a horrifying possibility hit her.

She'd been labouring under the delusion that because she'd been in the apartment at the time, that she had been the aim all along. But it was Klavier's apartment. It had been early in the morning. It wasn't that much of a stretch to think that the culprit hadn't realised Klavier had left. It was possible that the real target –

She gasped.

Just as the sound escaped her lips and Klavier turned to look at her, Deston spoke up again, somewhat hastily, as if he'd read her mind.

"K, I do need your help though."

"Ja?" Klavier said, glancing at Ema who'd managed to control herself somewhat. She looked down at her hands again, adamantly refusing to raise her eyes lest he saw the look in her eyes and started asking questions.

"Police and forensics will be combing through your apartment. I need you to find out whatever you can and bring me the information before it goes to anyone else." Deston stood with Klavier. "And then bring whatever you need here. You and Ema'll be staying here."

"What?" Klavier said, his head snapping up.

"This is the safest place I can think of. I've already arranged protection for the house. No, don't argue," Deston held up a hand when Klavier opened his mouth. "Your flat got blown up because of my carelessness and this is the least I can do. Not to mention it's probably a lot safer than anywhere else. So just do as I say, alright?"

Klavier nodded before turning back to Ema and smiling at her. "Will you be okay, Fräulein?"

Ema nodded glancing at him fleetingly. Both he and Deston were looking at her, as if waiting for her to say something but she didn't have the courage to open her mouth. She was feeling confused, intimidated...

And very very afraid.

* * *

It was a while before Deston managed to get Klavier out of the house – and that's exactly what he seemed to be doing. Ema saw the furtive glances he kept throwing at Ema, the anxiousness he was barely masking and the stressed way he kept clapping Klavier on the back, leading him to the door. Ema wondered if the blond prosecutor saw through the laughs and relaxed words – she certainly did. In fact, she'd never seen Deston so restless.

When she heard the sound of the door closing and Deston walked back into the room, Ema instantly felt like bombarding him with questions. He must have seen it on her face because he held up a hand.

"Ema," he said with a somewhat amused smile. "I know you're dying for answers so I'll give 'em to you but remember you can't repeat them to anyone else. Not even to K."

Ema nodded impatiently. "You lied to Klavier. You knew something was about to happen at the flat. How?"

"I can't tell you exactly how I knew," Deston sighed. "No, Ema," he shook his head when she looked ready to protest. "I really can't. All I can tell you is it was pure luck. It wasn't anything quite as clichéd as a cryptic note left on my desk or in my pocket."

"Fine," Ema pouted, glaring at him.

"Man, you and K have exactly the same glares. If looks could kill, the mysterious 'She' would be celebrating my death right now." Ema couldn't help but chuckle and Deston winked at her. "I've told you all I can tell you, Ema. That's pretty much all I know. Like I said, this group is very sophisticated now."

"You were withholding info from Klavier," Ema said with narrowed eyes.

"Well, it's not much. You remember Gerard right? The Landon murder?" Ema nodded. "Well, Gerard was a member of that ring. We questioned him and he slipped up on a few things. Considering how much of a blockhead he is, I'd say he's simply one of their thugs. He does their dirty work."

"That's why you were there that night!" Ema exclaimed.

Deston nodded. "Yeah. We were watching Gerard for several weeks before the murder. There's been a few murders in places where there was a deal going down and he was always seen hanging around just before the victims died. We thought he was the criminal"

"So was the murder of Landon connected to...?"

"No. I'd say that Caz just chose the wrong guy to cheat on."

Ema quietened for a moment before another thought occurred to her. "And Mr Wright is in on this?"

Deston sighed heavily and shook his head. He looked at her with more intensity than he'd ever done before. "Ema, what I'm about to tell you _cannot _leave this room. Ok?" Ema nodded slowly, frowning and wondering what could have him so riled up.

"Just after Mr Wright's trial – when Kristoph was found guilty – he contacted me. We'd met once or twice before and he knew he could trust me. I never believed that he forged evidence in that trial and I don't now."

Ema's estimation of Deston sky-rocketed

"He suspects Kristoph had a hand in his trial seven years ago."

Ema's eyes widened. "What?"

Deston looked weary now and he rubbed his eyes. His shoulders slumped. "There's too many riddles and coincidences surrounding that case."

"What do you mean?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Ema..." Deston moved to sit on the sofa beside her, looking at her carefully, as if trying to figure out something. "Did you know that Phoenix was only handed the case the day before the trial?" She shook her head. "That's why I never believed he forged anything. Aside from the fact that he was known as seeker of the truth, he simply had no time to forge anything." He shook his head. "What's more, the defense attorney who was meant to be defending the case was none other than Kristoph."

"WHAT?" Ema shouted, sitting up. She ignored the pain the action caused her. "He was meant to be defending Zak Gramarye?"

Deston nodded. "Coincidence?"

"My ass!" Ema snapped. Deston's eyebrows shot up as he began to laugh.

"My my, Detective Skye!" he said in between chuckles. "I had no idea you were capable of such language!"

"Tell me everything," Ema demanded.

Deston seemed to sober up at once. He took a deep breath, a small frown in between his eyes. "You must also have noticed that Klavier's reaction was almost _too_ perfect. It was as though he was expecting Phoenix to present forged evidence."

Ema thought back to the trial video. What had he said? Something like _'you just couldn't help yourself'._ Klavier had barely paused before clearing the gallery and calling forward Drew Misham. He hadn't even needed a recess to call the witness. It was as though –

"He knew," Ema whispered. "Klavier knew about the forged evidence beforehand, didn't he?"

"It certainly seems like it. Put that together with the fact that Kristoph had been taken off the case and that he's Klavier's brother..." Deston shrugged. "It just seems too strange."

"You're insinuating that Kristoph was behind the forgery, aren't you?" Ema asked, incredulously.

"It certainly seems like a possibility doesn't it?" Deston asked. "Especially now he's in prison for murder."

"What do you mean?"

"Well aside from the fact that it implies he's capable of anything?" Deston stood up. "Wait..." Before Ema could say anything, he'd disappeared through a set of double doors and she was left alone, to her thoughts.

Ema never imagined Kristoph could have anything to do with Phoenix's disbarment. As far as she had known, he was the only one that had stood by Phoenix and, until his trial, she had almost respected him for it. She had liked that, despite the fact that it had been his own brother who'd stood as the prosecution, Kristoph had been Phoenix's friend and defended him.

A frown creased Ema's forehead. She'd never though of the two that way. Klavier had always blatantly hated Phoenix, always cold and aloof... it didn't make sense. How had he felt, she wondered, about his brother being Phoenix's close friend? Furthermore, if Kristoph was the one who had Phoenix disbarred, why had he remained his friend and stood by him?

"Here," Deston said as he walked back into the room carrying something. He handed two pictures to Ema who took them with a questioning glance at him. "Take a look."

Ema peered at the pictures. One was of a man in a ridiculous magician's outfit – Zak Gramarye. The other was of a man in a trilby – upon closer inspection, she saw that it was the victim in Phoenix's case, Shadi Smith. She frowned at Deston who had seated himself next to her again.

"What...?"

"What was Zak Gramarye's real name?" Deston asked.

"It was Shadi E..nig...mar..." Slowly, Ema turned her attention back to the pictures and gasped. "They're the same person!"

"Funny isn't it?" Deston asked although his tone harboured no mirth at all. "The escaped defendant returns after 7 years and happens to be murdered by Kristoph." He locked eyes with Ema. "Pushing the boundaries of coincidence just a little, I think."

"But then why did Kristoph pretend to be Phoenix's friend?"

"Why indeed," Deston murmured, staring at the pictures. "That's what we're trying to find out."

"And Klavier has no idea?" Ema asked, her heart sinking.

"No. Why would he? He trusts his brother."

"And he's never had a problem with Kristoph and Phoenix being friends?"

"Oh he has his problems, yeah," Deston said, shaking his head. "But like I said – he trusts his brother. And he would never question his brother."

Ema was silent, trying to piece together the barrage of information that was going into her mind and it was so chaotic that she blurted out the next question without really thinking. "What does all this have to do with the crime ring?"

"What do you mean?" Deston said, surprised. "Nothing."

"But then..." She frowned. "Why does Mr Wright know about it?"

"After your first attack, he suspected something so I told him." Deston tilted his head. "He cares about you a lot."

Ema smiled inwardly at the comment but she was still confused and there was no stopping the questions racing through her head. "But on the night of the Landon murder..." She was seeing things now that she'd completely missed before. "You said Gumshoe was looking for him but he wasn't really... was he?"

"Well, he was," Deston said, with a smile. "But I just used that as an excuse to get him away. I wanted to talk to Phoenix about Kristoph. He's not involved with my investigation, Ema. Like I said, it's classified."

Ema nodded, absent-mindedly. She was thinking over what he'd told her and there was no doubt in her mind that there was a lot more that she had yet to discover but that could wait. At the beginning of the conversation she'd been afraid but now it was replaced by anger. Someone was trying to kill her... or Klavier. Either way, she wasn't going to sit back and make it easy for them. "I want to help."

"What?"

"They might be after Klavier too," Ema said, staring at him sternly. "I want to help."

"After Klavier?" Deston frowned. "Why would they be after him?"

"Well, you're assuming that they think I'm the most important person in your life but Klavier has been your friend longer and he's a harder target and he's a public figure. Imagine the message they would think that would send out." Her eyes darkened with anger at the probability of her words. "I want to help make sure that doesn't happen."

"You're not getting involved," Deston said shaking his head and Ema glared at him. "No use glaring at me, Ema, there's no – "

"I don't recall asking for your permission," Ema said snootily.

"Well, considering how I hold all the authority in this case and, with it, all the information, I'd say my permission is a prerequisite," Deston said.

"I want to help," Ema repeated stubbornly.

"That's not happening."

"Deston!" she exclaimed. "If you're worried about my safety, then you're an idiot." Deston looked at her in surprise. "I've been attacked once already and I'm lying here covered in injuries again. What the hell do I have to do to get your _permission_?" Her voice had risen considerably and her last word echoed around them mockingly but she didn't care. Klavier was in possible danger from this damn ring and now that she knew about it, she was going to do everything in her power to help stop them.

Her thoughts turned to Kristoph Gavin and her heart sunk. Klavier was the centre of more than just one problem. She didn't know what was worse – the possibility that somebody had blown up his flat thinking he might be in it or that his brother might be the reason Phoenix had been unjustly disbarred... through Klavier.

She shook her head violently, trying to get rid of these depressing thoughts. She was going to leave the Kristoph trouble with Phoenix – he was more intelligent and cunning than most people she knew put together. If there was a lie at the bottom of the case, he would find it and he would release Klavier from the darkness of it just as he had with her and Lana.

Ema shuddered. She could still feel the slithery feel of the shadows that had hung over her and her sister now as if it was yesterday. She thanked Phoenix practically every day for banishing the cloud that had made life so difficult. In the end, he had released them both from the chains they had both been shackled by.

But at least she had had Lana at the end. She'd been able to fall into Lana's arms to celebrate and she'd been able to see her smile without any doubts. Klavier already suffered from Kristoph's incarceration – she knew because she'd seen what his relaxed face truly looked like. She knew the rest was just a façade... What would happen if Deston was right and Kristoph had used Klavier to destroy Phoenix? What would happen if Klavier found out he'd been hating and berating the wrong man all these years?

How would he handle the fact that the one who had turned off all the lights had been his own brother?

"Fine."

Ema's attention snapped to Deston who was looking at her thoughtfully. "What?" she said, confused.

"Fine. You can help me."

Ema's eyes widened and she smiled incredulously. "I'm glad you finally see sense, Deston," she said.

"But you're going to have to listen to me. You're not allowed to investigate anything alone and if I tell you to stop anything, any time, anywhere – you have to listen. Yeah?" Ema hesitated. "Ema, I'm warning you. If you start going behind my back – "

"Okay, okay!" Ema said hastily, worried he would take back his offer. "I promise, no renegade behaviour!"

Deston smiled. "Okay. I could use a mind like yours in my investigation. I'm surrounded by incompetent dunderheads – it's unbelievable."

Ema beamed at the compliment. "With the level of science and logic I'll bring to the investigation, you'll be glad you asked me!"

Deston looked amused. "Ema, we need to find something to analyse first."

"We will," Ema said, dismissively waving a hand. "When do we start?"

"You need to heal first," Deston said, standing up. "You're not doing anything or going anywhere until you're better. Speaking of which, from now on, if you ever go somewhere, it's going to be with either myself, Klavier or someone else."

"What!"

"Yeah, I know," Deston said quickly when he saw how ready she was to start ranting. "You're a detective and all that. But you're still covered in bruises and I'm not taking any chances."

"Klavier's got better things to do than to baby-sit me," Ema mumbled, casting her eyes down as she remembered what Deston and Phoenix had told her in the hospital.

"Maybe," Deston said. "But I know you're his priority." Ema looked up at him, somewhat surprised. "Ema, come on. Do you seriously not see what the rest of the world sees?"

"It doesn't matter what I see. You said – "

"I spoke to Phoenix. He told me what he said to you." He pierced her with his eyes. "And his advice is always the best to listen to."

"But – "

"Listen," Deston said, holding up a hand to stop her. "When you overheard me and Daryan talking about our evil plan – " (his eyes twinkled and Ema scowled) " – we were both talking about you and Klavier." Ema's eyes widened. "You see, I told Daryan about Klavier's feelings for you and it was his idea that I 'snatch-you-up' to make 'Gavin move his ass'," he mimicked the last words in a voice uncannily like Daryan's.

"What...?"

"We've all known for a while that Klavier's in need of some sort of support. He won't talk to any of us and ever since Daryan's trial..." Deston sighed. "Well, when I saw the look on his face that day, I realise you could be the one who could be there for him." He paused to let this register. Ema was dumbstruck, staring at him silently. "Forget what I said in the hospital, Ema. You're the only one who can help him."

"I..." Ema took a deep breath. She was glanced away from him, looking at the table beside them but not really seeing it. "You... Why did Daryan say he needed this... _plan._.. to work?"

"Because he felt guilty. And he's in love... And he thinks that the only way there's a chance Klavier might understand why Daryan did what he did." Deston smiled. "And most importantly, like me, he wants Klavier to be happy. Although he wouldn't ever admit that."

Ema didn't answer – she didn't know what to say. She had no qualms about being there for Klavier because that's something she'd been wanting to do longer than she'd allowed herself to realise. But she also knew what Deston and Phoenix were saying with veiled words – they were telling her to open up to Klavier about her feelings. The fact that it was obvious to them made her blush.

Could she do it?

Could she look him in the eyes without becoming overwhelmed? Could she really survive the electric current that built up inside her around him? Could she let it take her over without fear of exploding into a million pieces or the feeling that she was going to drop on the spot in a faint? Did she have what it took to close the distance between them physically, to lift her face to his and say those words that would, according to Deston, destroy the emotional distance too? The thought made her tremble.

The truth was, no matter how much she loved him, no matter how much she longed for him... despite the way her fingers itched to touch his face and how she wanted to kiss away the fake smiles on his face to bring forth a genuine one... She would rather face an exploding apartment.

Deston and Phoenix might be certain that he felt something for her but 'something' wasn't enough for Ema Skye. She wasn't going to lay bare her heart, involve herself with him and, in the process, put his life in danger for 'something'. They could be wrong about him on so many levels. Yes, he'd hugged her... but she _had _thrown herself in his lap. Yes, he had kissed her hand but he was a flirt (or a gentleman, she didn't know which) and she'd seen him do the same to fans.

Ema shook her head for the thousandth time that day. She didn't have the time to be thinking about this. There were more important things to deal with and her love life certainly had no priority in the larger scheme of things. Yes, she would be there for Klavier, she would protect him... And that was it.

Little did Ema Skye know, a certain blond prosecutor had no intention of letting it rest at 'it'.

* * *

"_Klavier!" she screamed. "What the hell are you doing?"_

"_Ema." The woman was there again and she was looking at Ema blankly. "Save him."_

"_I can't move!" she cried. "Please stop him, please he – "_

"_I cannot."_

"_Please!" she screamed. "Stop him – KLAVIER! KLAVIER DON'T!"_

"_You are holding yourself back, Ema," the woman behind her said. "Let go and save him. Save him…"_

"_KLAVIER!"_

Ema's eyes flew open.

It took several seconds for her brain to catch up with her – she was breathing heavily, her body damp with sweat and her heart was pounding so hard she was certain it would break through her ribcage any second.

She sat up in bed gingerly, her hands resting on the edges of the bed and she stared down at the dark floor. She didn't bother to check the time – she didn't really care. Her mind was on the dream that she'd had for the second time in two nights. She had almost forgotten about it... until now.

She knew that her mind simply processed the days events while she slept and she was certain there was nothing to it... but she couldn't shake the feeling of fear that accompanied the awakening. She ran an unsteady hand through her hair and took a deep breath.

"You're being silly, Ema," she whispered to herself. "It's just a dream... You've been thinking too much..."

She took another breath and stood up, heading for the door, needing some water, but the moment she reached it, a sense of déjà vu sweeping through her. It was as though she was re-living the previous night and the reminder almost changed her mind – she didn't want a run-in with Klavier.

"Don't be stupid, Ema. How likely is that?"

She padded down the hallway, looking left and right, trying to find the kitchen. After a minute, when she was returning the way she had gone, Ema cursed Deston for having such a big house. She slipped in and out of a few rooms, trying to find the one she was looking for. She was about to give up and head back to her room when she heard a sound.

Ema turned toward it slowly and found a strange glow emitting from the half closed door. She placed her fingers against it lightly and opened it slowly, just enough for her to slip her head through.

"Fräulein," Klavier said, turning away from the TV to look at her from his place on the sofa. "I thought I heard you skittering around."

Ema had frozen at the sound of his voice but at his words, she scowled, stepping into the room. "I wasn't _skittering_. I was looking for the bathroom."

"It is upstairs," Klavier said, pointing at the ceiling with a smile as he sat up straighter and Ema's eyes widened. "Would you like me to accompany you?"

She didn't even answer as she stomped out of the room, her cheeks burning and her mind at work, trying erase the image of Klavier, topless. If she'd realised he was bare-chested she wouldn't even have exchanged the few words she had. She ran up the stairs, her eyes shut tight but that didn't help – it only enhanced the image even more – and when she opened them, he was still there, lingering before her eyes. So much for likelihood. It's like she'd gone back in time. Except this time he was awake and he was showing his damn six-pack.

She slammed the bathroom door shut behind her and leaned against it, trying to get a hold of herself. What the hell was wrong with her? She was acting like an immature school girl. So what if he was showing a bit of skin? It's not he was covered in...

Her thoughts drifted off as she recalled the glow of the TV on his tanned skin, like an angelic light. She was certain someone, somewhere, was putting her in these awkward situations so that she ended up doing something stupid. Well, she wasn't going to. No, she was Ema Skye. She might have failed her damn Forensics exam but that didn't mean she was going to go through life making a fool of herself.

She moved to the sink and turned the tap on. The feel of cool water against her warm skin gave her satisfaction and she let out a deep breath, leaning against the marble surface.

_Come on, Ema. Get it together. You're 25 for God's sake! _

She shook her head and splashed some more water on her face and with each splash, she felt herself grow calmer. She was fine. There was no need to worry. It's not like she would have to see him again on her way back to her room...

It was with this reassurance that Ema found the courage to open the door and make her way back. At the base of the stairs, she turned lightly and waited, listening. She could make out the sound of the TV coming from the room and she padded across the floor on the soles of her feet, every muscle in her body tense. Just as she made it past the door of the room he was sat in, she sighed in relief.

_Success._

With a small smile, she made her way to her room and placed a hand on the handle but just as she managed to get it open an an arm snaked past her face and shut it again. Heat tinged the air around her and she froze when she saw the tanned hand flat and pressed firmly against the door.

"Going without a goodnight, Fräulein?" Klavier murmured.


	3. Tear Her Roots

Tear Her Roots

'.'

She smiles and laughs and lies and lies

And she hides the truth behind her words.

But I see the longing in her eyes,

And her yearning I have heard.

.'.

"Going without a goodnight, Fräulein?"

Klavier had expected her to turn around and shout at him, maybe even hit him, for invading her personal space and for shutting her door. He'd expected it... but he'd also hoped that she wouldn't and when she answered his prayers, his heart soared.

Because it only made him more certain than ever that she was in love with him.

Klavier had been thinking non-stop since Deston had nearly kicked him out. He was no fool – he'd noticed the way Deston kept looking at Ema and his heart had sunk at the possibility that Deston might try to talk Ema out of their break-up. Nevertheless, he'd allowed his friend to usher him out because that's what friends did but it hadn't stopped his lawyer's mind from putting all the pieces together. As soon as he'd slid into his car, he'd thought long and hard about the events that had transpired over the past 36 hours; the night before, she'd kissed Deston in full view of the party but Klavier had seen the look on their faces and they weren't happy expressions – instead, they were angry and surprised. She'd been quiet on the journey back and once they'd reached home she'd broken down. Then, without warning, she'd ran away to her room. The next thing Klavier knew, he'd woken up to her hand on his face and she had touched him, kissed his cheek and hugged him. During the night and in the morning, he'd seen a change in her eyes and he'd barely managed to tell himself that he was imagining things.

But he most certainly wasn't imagining the break up. And he definitely wasn't imagining the frozen Ema before him.

His eyes ran down her glossy hair and his fingers itched to run through it, to wrap the tendrils around his hand and press his lips to them. His arms were tingling to snake around her waist and pull her against his body so he could kiss her slender neck.

_I can't. Not yet._

He wanted to know if the talk she and Deston had, had resulted in a reconciliation. If yes, then he would lift his hand from the door and turn away. If it hadn't...

"What are you doing?" Ema said, her back still turned.

"It is rude to leave without saying _gute nacht_, Fräulein," Klavier said as he stared into the back of her head. He had an inkling why she wasn't turning around. He hadn't imagined she would be awake and it was hot so he'd taken liberties, deciding to remain topless but now... he remembered the look on her face when she'd seen his chest and he grinned. It was definitely working in his favour.

"Goodnight. Now let go of my door."

A devilish thought occurred to him. "It is also rude to talk with your back turned to someone," he said, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. "Will you not honour me with a look in the eyes as you speak?"

"No!" Ema snapped. However, he'd apparently annoyed her sufficiently enough that she had to turn around to look at him anyway. He was amused when he saw her almost gasp as her eyes landed on his chest. She took a step back and when her back pressed up against the door, Klavier wanted to move in and close the distance but he forced himself to remain where he was. His skin started to tingle when her gaze continued to linger on his chest.

He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. "Up here, Ema."

She slapped his hand away and he smirked inwardly at the blush that was creeping across her flawless skin. "What the hell do you want Gavin?"

He retracted the hand keeping the door shut, now that she was doing the job for him, and crossed his arms. "I just wanted to know if you and Deston are reconciled."

She looked so surprised that the anger vanished from her face instantly and Klavier fought the urge to reach forward and run a finger across her lips. He loved this look on her – it magnified her features and made them all the more beautiful to him...

"Why on earth would you think that?" Ema asked.

His body deflated with relief as hope flooded through him. He realised now how heartbroken he would have been if she had said yes. Indeed, he'd been almost ready to sprint away if it was the case.

But it wasn't.

He flashed a grin at her. "Will you join me for a while?" Of course he fully expected her to scowl once more and refuse vehemently. He was surprised, therefore, when she nodded. Klavier paused, wondering if he'd imagined her agreement. When she raised an eyebrow at him, he smiled again, bowing a little and gestured towards the room he'd been in. "After you, my lady."

He followed after her, his eyes sweeping her from the loose t-shirt she wore to the shorts clad around slender legs. Much as he wanted to appreciate her form, he looked up and shook his head a little. He couldn't talk to her with the way his body was tightening and he needed a clear head for tonight. Tonight was important.

"What are you watching?" she said, settling into one end of the sofa. Klavier want to sit down right beside her but he moved to the other side, glancing at the TV.

"I was watching the news. They are going insane reporting what happened at the flat. They are unaware that you were living there and so they are assuming that the attack was an attempt on my life."

"Heh," Ema said, her eyes glued to the TV which was showing images of the flat in its ruined state. "I bet your fan girls are sobbing themselves crazy."

"Oh I think they will be all right," Klavier said, playing with his fringe. Just then, he appeared on the screen, to give a statement.

Ema snorted. "So this is why you were watching the news!" She laughed disbelievingly. "Your ego is legendary. Don't you get enough of yourself in the mirror every day!"

Klavier looked at her in surprise and he laughed, thoroughly amused at her presumption. "I do not watch the news to see myself, Ema."

"Really now?" She said in a bored tone, as if she didn't believe him. "Why _do _you watch it?"

Klavier looked at her, tickled by her opinion of him. "I am a prosecutor, Ema. If I did not watch the news and stay up-to-date on current affairs, I would make a very poor addition to the law enforcement."

"Hmph."

"Do you not watch the news?" Klavier asked, intrigued.

"No," Ema said bluntly and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I'm a detective. I see enough at work. I don't want to come home and switch on the TV just to find myself sucked back into all the horror stories I have to deal with during the day."

Klavier nodded. "I can understand that," he said, turning back to the TV which had switched over to a detective but he wasn't paying attention. "What _do _you do when you are at home?"

She shrugged, her eyes still on the screen. "I read, eat, watch a movie or listen to music."

"Oh?" Klavier said, seeing an opening. "What kind of music do you listen to?"

She glanced at him sideways. "Don't get over-excited, Gavin. I don't listen to your CD on replay or anything."

Klavier smirked. He didn't believe that for a second but he was glad she had said what she did because it gave him the perfect opportunity to start testing her. "That would explain why you are always scowling at me."

She turned towards him with a frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Klavier turned to face her fully, smiling when he saw her eyes flicker toward his chest and look away quickly. "Music is more than just a couple of instruments and voices thrown at you."

"Is that so," Ema said dryly.

"It is about sending a message," Klavier explained, watching her closely. "Not just through words but through the melody. A successful artist is only so by the number of people he touches. The question every artist should ask himself is, can a piece of my music flow through you?" Ema turned her face to him and the expression on her face told him that his words were affecting her. "Fans do not love an artist for no reason. It is a matter of whether or not my music can make your feet move and your heart skip a beat. Because if it can..." He could see her eyes darting in between his and her lips were parted and he knew he had her under the spell of his voice. "...then a piece of me is running through you."

Ema continued to look at him and Klavier was entranced by the way her eyes seemed to have clouded over and her breathing was visibly becoming uneven, lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

Klavier cleared his throat and shrugged nonchalantly. "As you do not listen to my music, it is quite obvious now why you do not understand me." He turned back to the news which was now reporting something else but his attention was still on her – he could see her looking at him out of the corner of his eye and elation was building inside him slowly. Something told him she _did _listen to his music... and she_did _move to it. He'd made a very sensual comment and her reaction had not disappointed him.

After a moment she spoke; "I think I understand you fine," Ema said, looking away and Klavier glanced at her sideways.

"I do not think so, Fräulein."

"I do," she said. "You're an egomanic prosecutor who moonlights as a rock-star in a band he named after himself." She glared at him. "Why do you think you're so special? Why wasn't it named after Deston, or that other whats-his-name I saw in your office – "

"Raoul," Klavier offered.

"Whatever. He's enough of a fop," (Klavier's mouth twitched), "so why wasn't it named after him?"

"And what did you have in mind?" Klavier said with a smile.

"It's not my job to think up names for a stupid band!" Ema said, annoyed. "My point is your ego needs deflating!"

"Fräulein," Klavier said, muting the sound on the TV. "The Gavinners are not named so just because I am the lead singer. It is a play on the German word _gewinner. _It means winner. The fact that my surname happened to be Gavin is a happy coincidence."

He could see he had surprised her. She was staring at him, scowl gone once more and he relished the fact that he was able to bring this endearing expression forth from her triple-locked chest of emotions.

"Well, what's that all about?" Ema said, suddenly and he fought the urge to laugh at the stubborn tone of her voice. "_Winner? _That's not being being arrogant?"

"Is it, Ema?" Klavier asked, lowering his voice again as he caught her gaze and held it once more. "We started out determined to succeed. It is a statement that we do not give up, we are determined and we fight for something significant. It is a message that justice cannot be thwarted. Is it really arrogant to try and broadcast that?"

He could see that he had stumped her again. She was staring at him open-mouthed again and the sight of her lips motivated him all the more to show her just how determined a Gavinner could be.

"If I want something..." his voice was practically a whisper now as he gazed at her intently, "...if I am driven to attaining it..." he tilted his head and his lips lifted at the corner, "...is it wrong of me to go after it with everything I have?"

Her lips pressed together and his eyes were drawn to them, entranced by the way the plump skin moved as they met.

"I..."

"Is it?"

She stared at him, dumbfounded for several moments. And then her gob-smacked expression was gone. "Damn lawyers," she snapped, turning away from him.

Klavier was a little stunned at the way she seemed to recover but instantly it was replaced by mirth and he was laughing, clapping the seat next to him, his head lowered, his chin touching his chest.

"What's so funny, fop?" Ema demanded.

Klavier shook his head, marvelled by her will-power. She really was admirable . "You are something else, Ema Skye." _I know I'll have to try harder with you but I can do that._

"It's not funny. God knows what time it is and you're practising your cross-examining skills on me. What's that all about?"

"I was under the impression we were having a discussion," Klavier said, amused by her scowl which had returned with vengeance. "I will be quiet, if you wish..."

"Yes please," Ema said, reaching for the remote in between them but he snatched it up and held it out of her reach.

"... but onlyif you will listen to one of my songs now – with me."

"...What?"

"Well, you said you do not listen to any of my songs." Klavier's eyes were twinkling – he knew full well she hadn't said anything of the sort but he knew she would not contradict him for fear of admitting otherwise. "I wish for you to try it."

"At this time?"

"Ja," he said, nodding. "Just one song. You even get to choose."

"Why?" Ema's eyes were narrowed.

"Because I wish for you to give it a chance. You have misunderstood me in many ways. After what we have discussed..." he smiled. "I would like it if you listened to my music with an open mind. Try to understand me." When she continued to stare at him sceptically, he pleaded her. "Please, Fräulein."

She sighed. "Alright, fine," she yielded and he grinned at her widely. "Just one song though."

_One song is all it will take, Ema, _Klavier thought as he switched off the TV and walked over to the enormous sound system.

"You look better now," Klavier remarked as he flicked through the CDs.

"Yeah," she answered. "I was just sore. That medicine has really helped." _Good, _Klavier thought with a smile. "Now I only have a headache. If it wasn't for Deston, I probably wouldn't have a head to – "

"Ema," Klavier said sharply, turning to face her, and the case he had in his hand cracked under the strain of his tense fingers. "Please."

She was surprised. "What?"

He instantly regretted his outburst. It wasn't her fault his body almost exploded at the idea of...

"I am sorry, Ema," he apologised, turning back to the CDs. "I do not wish to think about the alternative."

There was a pause as he rummaged through the piles, looking for one of their albums.

"I'm sorry, Klavier."

"Do not apologise, Ema," he muttered, finally finding it and slipping it into the system. He turned to look at her apologetically. "I am just glad you are safe."

He stared at her and she stared back at him. Klavier lost sense of his environment as he approached her and the music breezed in around them. Her eyes never wavered from his as he held out a hand to her. He could see her hesitating but he waited patiently.

_Come on, Ema. Let it go._

And still she was looking into his eyes questioningly.

_What is she thinking?_

She looked down at his fingers again.

_Take my hand, Ema._

Slowly, her hand lifted from her lap and moved through the air and then stopped. Klavier waited patiently, watching the emotions that crossed her face; uncertainty, embarrassment and... longing. Just as the latter registered in his mind, her fingers made contact with his and his shock was drowned out by the roar of victory in his chest. With a smile, he tugged gently and she was on her feet almost instantly. Static was heating his torso and he never looked away from her eyes as he pulled her into the space at the centre of the room. Her hands lingered centimetres away from his arms and Klavier smiled at her. He took a step forward and her fingers were suddenly resting on his arm and his chest was pressed against hers. The softness and heat of her body seeped through her shirt and a shiver ran down his spine. He didn't know if the shiver he felt course through her was real.

"Are you all right, Ema?" he murmured, staring into her face.

She was looking up at him, bewildered, and her cheeks were flushed. Her breath was fanning his face and it took everything he had to keep from simply throwing caution to the wind and kissing her. He waited for an answer and when she continued to offer nothing but silence, he felt elated.

"_...and even the sky bows down before you..." _The lyrics made him smile with irony.

As he took the first steps and led her in a gentle dance, his heart began to race. She was still looking at him and he could see the uncertain set of her mouth and the subtle longing in her eyes. Yes... he wasn't imagining it now. It was there.

_No. It's here. In my arms._

He waited for her to realise he'd tricked her, that the song he'd put in wasn't one of their normal songs. It was a CD of the tracks that never made it to the final cut. He waited for the scowl to return...

But it didn't.

Instead, her fingers tightened around his hand and on his shoulder. He smiled at her now and confidently began to lead her through the haze of the words that were wrapping themselves around the couple, threading them together and lifting them emotionally to a plane neither had been because neither had touched the other like this before, held each other willingly, at the same time. Klavier could almost feel her heart pounding as hard as his was, racing to see which one would begin to hum first. He spun her, his hand falling onto her back and he brought her closer. He looked into her emerald jewels, waiting for the protest but when none came, he became bolder.

"_...the moonlight plays upon your skin..."_

"You lied to me," she murmured and he raised an eyebrow.

"How is that, Fräulein?" he asked.

"_...I'm the echoing voice of your heart..."_

"You said you would put a Gavinners song on," she said, and he was astonished to see a smile flowering on her face.

"I did not," Klavier said. "I said I would put one of my songs on."

"_...all I have to do is hold you and there's a racing within my heart..."_

"You cheated," Ema said, her eyes twinkling, and he was enchanted by her. "You said we were just going to listen."

His hand pressed harder into her back and her body melded into his as they continued to move and he lowered his head a little so that his forehead was almost touching hers. "I did not, Fräulein. You assume too much." He winked at her. "What do you think of the song?"

She didn't answer straight away and he assumed it was because she was listening to the lyrics.

"_...I'm hiding in the veils of your vision..."_

"Why can't you sing more songs like this?" Ema asked.

"We are a rock group," Klavier said, inclining his head. "It would not go well. Not according to our manager. In any case, these songs are more precious because they are not heard by everyone."

"_...I weave the web of your dreams..."_

They danced and danced and with each step they took, Klavier could see something growing behind the veils of her carefully guarded fortress. He'd never imagined she would agree to dance, never dreamed she would be looking at him the way she was now and he knew...

He knew she cared for him.

He knew she wanted him.

And he was going to make sure they both got what they wanted.

"You do not ask the same questions as everyone else," Klavier said quietly.

"_...I want to break free of these bonds and show..."_

"What questions?"

"_...In your love, I want to live like this..."_

"Like what my inspiration is," Klavier whispered.

"_...and I've never loved anyone like you..."_

"What's your inspiration?" Ema's eyes were flickering back and forth between his own. Her chest was rising and falling against his, faster, uneven.

"_...and baby, you're crazy..."_

"Will you take a guess, _mein liebe?_"

"_...that you can't see..."_

Ema shook her head infinitesimally and Klavier raised a hand to her cheek, brushing away the hair from her face. "You."

"_...baby, you're the one..."_

And she stopped and he stopped with her. He saw the shock that registered in those pools of emerald green and his heart burned with every second nothing but air passed through her lips. She blinked and her head moved a little, side to side as if she was trying to understand something. Klavier felt her hands slip away and he watched anxiously as she took a few steps backwards until she was no longer touching him and he felt cold in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"Ema..."

"Wha..." She blinked and looked down at the floor. "Why..."

"You must know," Klavier said taking a step toward her and his heart sank when she moved away. "You must have seen it."

"I... I don't..."

Klavier looked at her, pleading her with every fibre of his being. _Please tell me you love me, Ema. Please tell me how you really feel... Please..._

"Ema," Klavier said, moving forward and taking her hand and stopping her from turning her back on him. "Please... I know you feel something for me. I have seen it. If you are scared about this because of who I am, I promise, I will not hurt you!"

She looked into his face and he saw the anguish that marred her beautiful features and the longing was in her eyes again, stronger than ever.

"I see it in your face," he whispered, gathering her in his arms and pressing against her. "I know you feel the same." He waited for a response but when she gave none, his fingers caressed her cheek before sliding into her hair. He leaned in to kiss her, his breath mingling with hers and he saw her eyes flutter close. His body tingled with anticipation and his heart had began to hum the tune of love, spurring him on, warning him that to stop now would mean he would die...

"_...and this kiss that lingers takes my soul..."_

And when his lips touched hers, his heart was consumed by the inferno of his desire. His control slipped and his arms curled around her, pulled her deeper into his embrace but while his actions were urgent, his kiss remained gentle. He brushed his mouth against hers, kissing her softly, trying to convince her to unlock herself. Slowly, her lips parted to accept his tongue and her arms encircled his neck. His blood boiled and rushed through him painfully and he was kissing her with all of his being, pushing his body against hers, his hands drawing circles on her back.

"_...and in the fire of love, my body is burning..."_

Klavier had never known such intensity. He was certain he would die from wanting her, he would die if he couldn't merge his being with hers. It was unstable and powerful. And he was afraid but he didn't care – nothing could stop him now. Nothing could stop him...

"_No!"_

And suddenly, he was stumbling, his arms empty and he frowned, trying to regain his balance. What...? And when he saw Ema standing several feet away from him, he understood.

"Ema?"

"No, don't come near me!" she cried and he stopped in his tracks, his frown deepening.

"Ema what is it?" he said, concerned for her. She looked terrified and the expression was heart-wrenching.

"I... I can't do this."

He froze just for a moment before he realised what was worrying her. "Ema, if you are worried about Deston, I will – "

"No," Ema said, shaking her head, looking at him, horrified. "It's not him. It's... I..." Klavier watched, puzzled, as she turned away from him. "I don't feel that way about you, Klavier. It's just... It was..."

Klavier stood, frozen, uncomprehending of her words. He was staring at her, willing her to turn around and explain that he'd heard wrong... But when he realised she wasn't going to do it, his face hardened and his anger rose. He strode towards her and he grabbed her wrist, spinning her around until she was facing him.

"Say that while you look into my eyes, Ema," Klavier whispered. He looked from one teary eye to the other, waiting for a response and when he got none, he smiled, his heart warming a little. "Not so easy to lie when you are eye to eye, is it?"

"I can't – "

"No!" he interrupted. "Tell me you are afraid, tell me you do not trust me, tell me you are guarding your heart but do not tell me you do not care for me!" he hissed. "I have seen the truth in your eyes! Do not lie to me, Ema."

"I don't – "

"_Do not lie to me!_" He pulled her closer, silencing her. "Do not lie to me, Ema," he repeated, brushing his fingers across her lips and down her neck. The feel of her satin skin was starting wildfires on his skin and his anger dimmed. "Please," he whispered, his defences giving way to his need for her to admit how she felt, to hear those words. He pressed his lips against her cheek. "Ema..." he breathed.

_Please tell me you love me._

"Klavier," she whispered at last and he looked at her, hope flaring through him but when he saw the tear that journeyed down her cheek, he could almost imagine it washing away the kiss he'd planted there and he knew. "Please..."

And in that word, he heard her desperation. His mouth hardened again and his arms fell away from her as he took a step back. Whatever it was that was holding her back, it was stronger than what she felt for him.

But he was not going to give up.

"Fine," he said and the coldness of his voice made him hate himself but he couldn't help it. "You wish to do this the hard way?" He looked at her darkly. "I can do that."

"I..."

"I understand," Klavier said. "You do not wish to pursue a relationship but understand this, Fräulein," his fists were clenched now and it was taking all of his willpower to control his temper, "I have seen the look in your eyes. I have tasted it on your lips. I know what is in your heart. And I will not give it up simply because you lack the courage to face up to it."

Ema was frozen on the spot, holding her arms as if she was cold, tears rolling down her cheeks and Klavier's heart turned over but he was not feeling compassionate enough to forget that she had started this. He grabbed her arms and pulled her close once more.

"I will not let you get away so easily, Ema," he whispered, his lips inches from hers. "I will do everything in my power to make you mine. No matter how long it takes, I will push you. I will pull you. I will descend to your roots and tear them and when you fall, it will be in my arms." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Do not hope that this will all be gone in the morning when I have calmed down." His eyes flashed warningly. "These are not the words of an angry man. This is the promise of a lover. And my love will never die."

And then he let go of her and turned away, knowing that a second longer of her proximity would mean he would be unable to control himself and he would kiss her again.

But he would not.

The next time they kissed – and there _would _be a next time – it would be because she had come to him._She _would be the one to initiate the kiss.

He heard her feet patter across the floor and he stood frozen in his spot until he heard the distant banging of her door. Knowing he was alone, Klavier's fist flew threw the air and collided with the wall. If he hadn't been fuelled by something stronger than anger, he was sure that along with the dent in the wall, he would be sporting a few broken fingers – again. As it was, the adrenaline that rushed through him now was significantly stronger than rage and it made him harder than marble.

"_...rip my soul in two and all you'll find is your name..."_

For even the softest would be turned to stone by a bleeding heart.


	4. The War Begins

The War Begins

Ema hadn't slept all night.

She'd tossed. She'd turned. She'd tried counting to a million. She'd done everything conceivable and still her eyes were wide open, watching the darkness fade, giving way to the sunlight that was streaming in through the window and there was only one thing on her mind.

Klavier.

She could hardly believe what had transpired during the night. Why had she kissed him? And then, after kissing him, like a fool she'd lied without success and pushed him away and angered him. She didn't blame him for being angry. She was angry with herself.

He'd laid his heart bare for her. He'd told her how he felt, he'd made himself vulnerable and what had she done? She'd rejected him. She knew there was no other way – he had to be protected by whatever was going on and she wasn't going to take the risk and put his life on the line. But to reject him after returning his _kiss_? What else had she expected? She should have rejected him at the door and gone to sleep. That rejection would have been the best, the least painful move but noooo... Ema Skye had to accept because she wanted to spend some time with him.

She hated herself right now.

She shivered and her eyes squeezed shut as she remembered... His arms had felt so strong and dependable and she'd felt so safe in them that she didn't want to let go. His eyes had glittered in the dark, pulling her under their spell and eliciting the strongest emotions from her. She'd found herself longing for his touch even while he held her. She found herself missing him while he touched her.

And when he'd kissed her... It hadn't just been passion and lust – it had felt like the homecoming of a long lost part of her. It had been sweet and bitter; sweet because she loved him with every fibre of her being and bitter because she knew it was wrong. In that moment though, she hadn't cared. From the gentle way he'd held her she could have sworn he loved her as much as she loved him; he'd kissed her with the searing heat of a lover not the bestial lust of a player.

And then she'd pushed him away.

Like one of those ridiculous girls in the movies who gave in to the man and then rejected him. Ema had always thought they were coy bimbos and now she found that she was from among them.

What had she done?

She'd promised herself she would be his friend. How could she be there for him if he was angry at her? He was her boss. How would she work around him if there was this hanging over them? And Ema remembered the promise he'd made as his burning eyes had held hers.

_I will do everything in my power to make you mine. No matter how long it takes, I will push you. I will pull you. I will descend to your roots and tear them and when you fall, it will be in my arms. _

Ema's vision blurred again as she recalled the anger that had tinged his words. She didn't want him to be angry with her. She didn't want this black cloud hanging over them. He was already going through so much and she did not want to add to his sorrow and stress. He needed a friend, not a foe. He needed peace, not a war.

But most of all, Ema Skye did not want to have to avoid the man she loved because she didn't think she could handle it.

It wasn't until the thought of having to spend her time trying to dodge out of his way that she realised how difficult it would be for her to carry on without him in her life. She didn't know when he'd become so important to her routine but it made her accept one simple fact.

She was irrevocably in love with him.

She wiped away the tears that leaked out of the corner of her eyes and she sniffed, her eyes darting to the clock on the night stand. It was just after 7AM. She sat up in bed, swinging her legs over the side, and took a deep breath.

She had to sort this out. Surely, he would have calmed down now. She thought back to after she had escaped to her room; a while later, she'd heard music drift through the house and she'd known it was him. It had been a bittersweet melody that had moved through her and she'd shivered remembering what he'd said.

_It is a matter of whether or not my music can make your feet move and your heart skip a beat. Because if it can...__then a piece of me is running through you._

Ema shook her head, trying to focus on what she had to do. She had to sort this out. She couldn't just leave the situation like this or it could get worse and it would make life difficult for her in so many ways as she had to share a home with him now as well as the workplace. She grit her teeth, thinking about how embarrassing it would be but it had to be done. She'd caused the trouble so she had to be the one to sort it.

As she walked to the bathroom and refreshed herself, Ema tried to think of the many ways she could apologise and realised after a few scenarios that an apology would only remind them both of the night before. And, considering what he'd said, she didn't think that sorry was what he wanted to hear.

_This is the promise of a lover. And my love will never die._

Her eyes closed in protest, as tears began to form again, and she leant against the sink to steady herself. She took deep breaths to control the sobs making their way upwards.

His indirect profession of love had made her weak. She'd trembled for hours afterwards because she'd never thought to hear those words from him and now that she had, she didn't know how much to believe. Maybe he did love her now but how long would he continue to love her? She'd seen a lot of her friends left broken hearted by a man who'd uttered those words to her, and she'd always been afraid to find herself in that state. Now that she'd felt the searing touch of love, she knew just how dangerous it was to leave herself vulnerable and she didn't think she had the courage for it. She couldn't take the risk and allow herself to give everything she had to a man as unattainable as he was. He was Klavier Gavin, wanted by women worldwide. He was a renowned prosecutor and rock star. He was handsome, intelligent, confident and successful.

As if he wanted her forever.

She suddenly heard the handle turn and she jumped, turning around to stare at the locked door. She knew who it was instantly and her heart began race as she waited for him to say something or knock but there was nothing except silence. She looked at the bottom of the door and saw a shadow moving away and splashed water on herself. Somehow, knowing that Klavier had walked away without a word or a knock only increased the dread inside of her.

_This is what you'll have to put up with at work and around this house for as long as you're here. _

No, she told herself. I won't let it. I have to talk to him. She patted her face dry on one of the towels Deston had supplied her with and, taking a deep breath, she slowly unlocked the door and opened it. She looked left and right but the hallway was empty and she made her way down, glancing over the side every so often to see if she could catch a glimpse of him.

_He's probably in the kitchen._

Sure enough, as she approached it, she heard the sound of cutlery and her body trembled. Subconsciously, she ran a hand through her hair and shook it, touching her face. She blinked a few times and then she pushed the door open.

He was in the same state of undress and she froze momentarily; she had expected him to be dressed for work, or dressed fully at least. Klavier turned from his place at the cooker to look at her. She flushed when his eyes travelled slowly down her body and then back up. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment and then, without a word, he turned away again.

"_Guten Morgen,_" he said and she couldn't make out the tone of it.

"Good morning," she replied.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, poking at something in the frying pan he was holding and she walked to the kitchen bar and leaned against it.

"What are you making?"

"Eggs and toast," he said and she was becoming increasingly disturbed by the serious tone of his voice. He wasn't cracking any jokes, he wasn't looking at her. He wasn't being... _glimmerous_. "I knew you were in the bathroom so I took the liberty of making some for you as well." He turned with a plate of said breakfast and placed it before her.

"Thank you," she said quietly, looking down at it. She could see him boring holes into her face but she was too afraid to meet his gaze.

After a moment, he said "You are welcome." And then he was back at it, making more for himself no doubt. Ema sat on one of the stools and picked up the bread, taking a bite of it.

"This is delicious," she remarked more to make conversation than anything else. She already knew he was a fantastic cook and Ema almost smiled at the fact that this was the second time in two days that he was making breakfast for her. There were a lot of things that were similar except that they were very different too.

"I am pleased you like it," Klavier said, pulling out a plate from one of the cupboards. "There is not much in the way of food. I suppose it is because Deston does not reside here often so I will have somebody restock as soon as possible." He turned to glance at her over his shoulder. "There is some orange juice in the fridge, however."

Ema looked up at him in surprise. It was almost as if he knew that she liked it.

"I know how much you like orange juice."

Her heart skipped a beat. How did he know that? Had he been watching her, committing her likes and dislikes to his memory? The thought sent a shiver down her spine and she barely suppressed it. She got up and padded over to the large refrigerator, pulling it open and looked inside. Klavier was right, there was very little there and she didn't have to look hard to spot the orange carton. Extracting it from the fridge, she turned around took a step back in surprise when she found him standing dangerously close. He was inches away from her and she thought she could feel the heat of his skin travelling through the air and hitting her, beckoning her. She looked up into his face reluctantly and almost dropped the juice when she saw the way his eyes were clouded, dark.

"I need milk," he murmured, so quiet that she barely heard him. She ducked her head and stepped aside, swiftly making her way back to her place. She shook her head a little, trying to rid her ears of the melodic and intimate sound of his voice.

Ema sat down, her head lowered and she was thankful that her hair was long enough to hide her face. She ate her food quietly and without looking up. She needed a glass for the juice but she didn't have the courage to find one. _I'll get it when he sits down so there's no chance of __**that**__ happening again_. Just then, however, as if he'd read her mind, a glass was set next to her and she glanced up to see Klavier looking at her.

"Here you are," he said.

She gave a jerk of the head, and she almost choked on the toast and eggs in her mouth. "Thanks."

"I have found apples," he said, walking around to his side. "Would you like some?"

She opened her mouth to decline then stopped. Would denying his offer be a good idea? He already looked so serious and she didn't know whether he was angry or not. Did she want to risk adding to it?

"That would be nice," she said, her voice low. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him nod. He moved out of her sight and then he was back with a few apples on a plate and a knife. He sat down and began to peel them. She watched him for a moment but because of the angle he was holding it at, she could also see his stomach, so she looked away.

"Do you know the story of Atalanta, Fräulein?"

Ema glanced up at him in surprise but he was focused on the fruit which he was smoothly skinning. "No," she said.

"Her father wanted her to marry but she did not wish to give up her freedom," Klavier explained, almost casually. "So she struck a bargain. She challenged all of her suitors to a foot race, dictating that only one who could win against her would become her husband. She was a superb athlete. She knew she could not be beaten."

Ema listened carefully, wondering why he was suddenly talking about Greek mythology. She looked at him again but he was still focused on the fruit.

"She outran many suitors. But even she could not keep it up forever. She was eventually beaten but the man who became her husband did not win through speed." Klavier placed aside the apple and picked up a second one. "Hippomenes knew that he was not fast enough to outrun Atalanta. So, he asked Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, for help." He looked at the apple in his hand for a few seconds, as if considering it before he glanced at Ema. "She gave him three golden apples and told him to drop them one at a time during the race. That is what he did. Sure enough, Atalanta picked them all up, one at a time and eventually fell behind." He began to peel this one too and Ema frowned. "It took his brain, all three of the apples and all of his speed but eventually, he succeeded. He won her."

Ema suddenly felt anxious and she looked at the apples before them. One peeled, the second in his hand and the third still waiting to be attended to.

_Three apples._

Her mouth dried up and she could do nothing but stare at them, wondering if it was coincidence or if he was trying to tell her something.

_Do not hope that this will all be gone in the morning when I have calmed down. These are not the words of an angry man. This is the promise of a lover._

She swallowed the food in her mouth and as it descended it was almost painful. She considered her next words very carefully. "Apples are a symbol of man's fall from grace," Ema said, hoping her message was clear. "It was an apple that led to Adam and Eve's banishment. Why would Aphrodite give him apples of all things?"

"The 'forbidden fruit' you speak of is not necessarily an apple," Klavier said, picking up the final apple and looking at her. "It became an apple because of a misunderstanding of the word _malum_ in Latin. As an adjective, it means evil. It is only as a noun that it becomes an apple."

"So, it could still be apple," Ema said, her stubborn side rearing its head. She knew what Klavier was trying to say and she was going to counter it likewise.

"Indeed," was all he said. Klavier placed the final apple on the plate and moved it in the middle of the table, in between them and her eyes were drawn to it. The way he moved it seemed to be an offering and her eyes widened. She glanced up at him and he stared at her and she knew that he hadn't calmed down at all.

He'd meant every word he'd said.

"You should eat your breakfast," Ema said abruptly, nodding towards his egg and toast. "It'll get cold."

"In a minute," Klavier said. He picked up one of the apples again and began to slice it. She watched, mesmerised by the movement of his fingers as they skilfully moved the knife through the body of the fruit. "It is strange that the apple is considered a symbol of love and sexuality despite the belief that it was the forbidden fruit. I wonder if they believe love is forbidden. Or are simply..." he looked at her, "afraid."

_He's doing this on purpose, _Ema thought. She looked down at her plate and suddenly, she didn't feel so hungry anymore. She reached for the glass, ready to pour herself some juice but then she saw an odd movement from Klavier out of the corner of her eye and she looked up sharply.

Blood was starting to seep from a cut on his palm and he was looking at it with a grimace. Ema gasped and she was on her feet at once, running around to him. She snatched his hand and took a closer look at it – it was deep and bleeding profusely.

"Wait," she ordered him and raced to her bedroom, ignoring the pain the fast movement caused her. She looked around for her bag and, when she found it, she pulled out the small first-aid box she carried around. Upon her return, she found he was at the kitchen sink, washing away the blood, his jaw clenched. She grabbed at his hand and moved him back to his stool.

"Sit."

He obliged and she got to work cleaning his wound and bandaging it. She frowned as she saw how straight and clean it was and her eyes flickered to the discarded knife. How the hell had he managed to cut himself so deeply just by slicing some apples and why was his wound so... perfect? And as a possibility occurred to her, she raised her shocked eyes to him.

Klavier's face was inscrutable; he was watching her intently and there seemed to be something about him that was almost challenging her to confront him. It was this, more than anything, that confirmed her suspicions. Ema quickly ducked her head again and focused on bandaging his hand but the whole time, she knew he was watching her.

_Please let me be wrong. _

And the idea that she was responsible for what he had intentionally done brought tears to her eyes once again and she blinked furiously, battling them away. She would not cry in front of him.

_Why did you do this?_

And as the question occurred to her, she tied up his bandage and looked up at him, right into his eyes.

_Why, Klavier?_

His eyes were smouldering now and he stood up suddenly, closing the little distance that was between them. Ema's breathing stopped almost as a defence mechanism, as if her body knew that to breathe in his scent would rob her of her senses.

"Thank you," he whispered. She nodded once and as she made to throw away the wrappings, warm fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her. He drew her in until her back was pressed against the warmth of his chest and she could feel it through her shirt. It was burning her and she could almost feel his heart beating, fast. She closed her eyes and then, suddenly, he was humming a soft melody that sounded familiar.

"_You can push me away," _Ema froze,_ "but I'll always be here." _His arm circled her waist and she would have jumped if she wasn't paralysed. "_And these games you play..." _She felt her hair shift away from her neck and then his mouth was at her ear, breathing softly. "_Only bring me near."_

He continued to hum to her, drowning out the voice of reason that was screaming at her to push him away and run. His hand crept over her stomach and he was slowly rocking side to side, using his arm to guide her with him. His breath was on her neck and sending shivers down her body, making her weak at the knees and leaving her breathless and dizzy. She wanted to move his hand away but she'd turned numb.

And just when she was about to collapse, he withdrew and she was left standing by herself. She could not move, could not turn around to look at him. She didn't trust herself, didn't trust her eyes, her mouth, her hands...

She didn't know how long she stood there, waiting for the world to stabilise, for everything to stop rocking and settle in place. When it finally did and she felt some sensation in her arms and legs, she took a deep breath. Would he be staring at her? Would he be smiling at her because he'd proven that he had power over her? The thought irritated her and she spun around, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

But he was gone.

Ema looked all around her and did not find him anywhere. She bit her lip and looked down at the knife on the kitchen top. Lifting it, she looked at the bloodstained blade and shook her head, fear gnawing at her heart and then her eyes turned to the doorway he had inevitably left through.

_You really meant it when you said you'd do anything, didn't you?_

She shivered at the implication behind those words. She had to find a way to stop this madness. He was obviously hell-bent on getting what he wanted and he would do anything to get it. She glanced at the knife again and an idea came to her. She glanced at the doorway again.

_Two can play at this game, Klavier Gavin._

Oddly, an image of Lana's sliced hand in that case came to her. She didn't see the relevance but her subconscious registered it. With clenched teeth, Ema dragged the knife across her own palm leaving in its wake a crimson river that was a testament to the love she was keeping a secret in her heart.

* * *

By the time Klavier returned downstairs, over half an hour later, Ema had bandaged her hand exactly the same way she had his and she was cleaning up the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard soft heavy footsteps and saw that he was now fully dressed, ready for work. She looked away quickly, focusing on the washed dishes she was putting away.

"You should not be working," he said, suddenly close behind her and she dropped the plate she was holding. She trapped it in between her waist and the unit just in time and reached down with one hand to grab it, her face red.

"It's fine," Ema muttered, opening one of the cupboard doors and putting away the plate. Just as she closed it, tanned fingers reached up to grabs hers and she found herself being turned toward him gently but firmly for the millionth time. She watched his expression as he frowned at her bandaged hand and her gaze was steady when he looked up at her.

"How did this happen?" he asked. "You did not have this before I left."

"I hurt myself while peeling an apple," Ema said, putting a light emphasis on the last word.

Klavier's frown deepened. "Why were you peeling an apple when I have already done so and sliced them for you?" He gestured towards the plate behind him.

"I wanted to do one myself," Ema said. She knew the answer was ridiculous and he was far too intelligent to fall for it. Sure enough, he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Ema," he said in a low tone and he lifted her bandaged hand. "How did this happen?" he repeated.

"I told you," she replied with stony eyes. "I was peeling an apple."

"Where is this apple?"

"I ate it."

"Why are these still here?" Klavier demanded and she could see he was getting angry.

_Good. He should know what it's like to see the person you care about hurt themselves. _She knew he was catching on and that's why he was getting angry.

"It's no big deal, is it, Klavier?" Ema said, and she was sure that her own eyes were burning now. "I guess we'll both just have to be careful around knives."

She saw his eyes widen for a split second and he glanced down at his own hand before looking at hers. She saw him make the connection – both their left hands, both bandages identical, both 'accidental'.._._

"Ema!" His voice sounded shocked, horrified.

"It'll heal in no time," Ema said quietly, making to turn away but he stopped her, leaning down to look her in the face.

"Do not _ever _do that again!" he whispered.

"Do what? It was just an accident, Klavier," Ema said, her face still stony. "Just like yours. Maybe it would be best if you didn't order any apples for the house. They're obviously hazardous to us both. We'll have to be careful."

And then she saw her message register in his face. Guilt was at war with anger now. Guilt because his ploy had backfired and anger because he realised she was warning him off whatever he had planned. As she watched the flickering emotions, his face hardened and she knew that guilt had been defeated.

He stepped closer, invading her space. His hands were on the unit behind her and his face neared hers until his breath was riding her skin. His eyes were blazing now and when he spoke, he sounded almost menacing.

"I guess we will, Fräulein," he whispered. "And I will have to be careful with you." He moved in more until her back was arched and she stopped breathing, afraid that the slightest movement in her torso would mean contact with his. "You obviously cannot be left alone so you will come with me. Now. Get dressed."

While she was in an odd position and Klavier Gavin was leaning over her, Ema's anger boiled and exploded, causing her to stand up, ready to shout at him but then something happened she had never intended. She had expected him to move back too, give her some space to stand but he didn't – he remained in his position. So when Ema straightened, his body was suddenly pressed into hers and the angry words that had been forming on her lips were lost as they met with his.

She froze against him. And then, idiotically, stupidly, _maddeningly_, she took a deep breath, to gain some energy to put some distance between them but his scent overtook her and the dizziness hit her. She swayed on the spot and she felt his arms wrap around her, steadying her and the movement caused friction between their mouths. Ema shivered and quickly snapped her head back a little with the result that she was looking up into his face now. His blue eyes were clouded with emotion and she was left almost breathless by their beauty.

That was until he spoke.

"_Danke _for the kiss Fräulein," he whispered. "But I need you to get ready. You are coming with me and I am needing to get to work."

Fury flooded through her at the cheek of his remark and she pushed him with all she had. The force on her hands and arms caused her to hiss in pain but she paid little attention as Klavier stumbled. She'd expected to make him angry too but was infuriated to see he was only smiling at her.

She glared at him before looking down at her hand which was stinging now. She cradled it and cursed him under her breath.

"Are you okay, Ema?"

Her head snapped up and she shot him daggers as he approached her. "Don't you dare come near me, you fop!" she said sharply and he stopped in his tracks. Without waiting for a response, she turned around and marched away. She _would _get ready. She _would _go with him. But where she would go was going to be her choice. She would damn well make sure of that.

* * *

Of course, Ema had decided to dress up for work. Her usual lab coat wrapped around her and her satchel by her side. Klavier had frowned at her attire but when she threw him a sharp look, he remained quiet. She'd marched beside him moodily, slammed his car door with much more force than necessary and barked orders at him to drop her off at Deston's office. Klavier had been about to question her when she told him to ''shut up and drive'' to which he quietly acceded. So it was after almost an hour of excruciating silence punctuated by the ferocious munching of her Snackoos that they found themselves outside of the building that housed Deston's office.

Much to her displeasure, Klavier decided to accompany her. She grudgingly realised that had she been on her own, she probably would have had a very difficult time getting past all the damn receptionists and other guards in place and having Klavier with her made the journey smoother – they simply nodded at him as he passed them. When she stepped into Deston's office with Klavier, Ema was scowling more furiously then she ever had.

"Hey guys! Visiting me in my office!" Deston exclaimed rising from his seat. Ema saw that he had cleaned up and the bandages he sported didn't look half as bad. He was moving his damaged arm around more and his hair wasn't full of glass. He approached them with a smile and clapped his hand into a handshake and Klavier grimaced. Deston frowned when he saw the bandage on Klavier's hand. "What'd you do to your hand, K?"

"Just an accident," Klavier said.

Deston nodded and turned to Ema. He seemed to scrutinise her and cocked his head. "Not a morning person, Ema?"

Ema threw a Snackoo at him. Deston laughed, catching it and popping it in his mouth.

"The Fräulein wanted to see you so I drove her over," Klavier said to Deston who nodded. "She is meant to be resting but I do not wish to leave her alone. It is a big house and I fear she might lose herself."

Ema growled. "Shut up. I wanted to see Deston anyway. Now why don't you get lost?"

Klavier looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Achtung!" He glanced at Deston again. "She is most certainly not a morning person." He turned back to Ema. "Maybe that apple you ate did not go down too well."

Ema threw a handful of Snackoos in his face. "_Verdammt, _Ema!" Klavier snapped. "Those hurt!"

"Good!" Ema snapped back.

Deston was staring at the two with a puzzled and somewhat alarmed expression, when Ema turned back to him. With a frustrated sigh, she stuffed her bag of snacks in his hands. "Hold on to these for me while _he's _in the room or else I won't have anything left to eat."

But the Gavinners drummer wasn't paying attention. Her bandaged hand had caught his eye and he glanced at Klavier's hand again. Then she saw him raise questioning eyes to her but the look only lasted a second. He was grinning at Klavier again.

"Better hightail it the hell outta here, Gavin. Our lovely detective is on a rampage to murder all things fop!"

"_Sie treibt mich zum Wahnsinn," _Klavier muttered and Deston raised an eyebrow. Ema turned on him with fire blazing in her eyes.

"What the hell did you say, Gavin?" she demanded.

"Nothing, Fräulein," Klavier said, "I will see you soon, Deston. I trust you will take care of our little _Giftmischerin?_"

"Yeah, I will," Deston hastily cut across Ema whose temper had risen to such heights that she wanted to grab Klavier and throw him out of the window. "You should get going – you'll be late." He clapped Klavier on the shoulder and led him out. Ema stood there, her shoulders heaving and her eyes narrowed and when Deston returned, she snapped at him instantly.

"Give me my Snackoos," she hissed.

He handed them over and watched her as she ripped the bag open and started throwing as many as she could into her mouth.

"So, Ema," Deston said, leaning against his desk and crossing his arms. "Do you want to tell me why you and Klavier have both your left hands bandaged?"

"We were peeling apples."

* * *

Verdammt - Dammit

Sie treibt mich zum Wahnsinn – She drives me crazy

Giftmischerin – Troublemaker.


	5. A Brother's Call

A Brother's Call

'.'

Like fire and water, earth and air,

The lie you embrace, the truth you tear.

You smile and laugh and act refined,

Leaving me dumb, deaf and completely blind.

.'.

Klavier was practically laughing all the way back to work.

He'd been annoyed when she'd asked to see her ex-boyfriend but the way Ema had snapped at him and the general murderous aura that she emitted had eventually drawn a smile from him and before he knew it he was shaking with laughter. He greeted everyone at work with more enthusiasm than normal and when he reached his office, he fell into his chair happily. He relaxed in it, entwining his fingers behind his head and looking out of the window, up at the sky, before closing his eyes.

A content smile curled his lips as he recalled the morning. His body tingled and a shock coursed through him at the memory of her body against his, the feel of her lips to his. He'd pushed her just enough this morning – he'd barely started. It was going to be a tough battle but he had every intention of winning – and she was the one who had given him the motivation.

The kiss they'd shared during the night had been unlike any other. It was in those moments that he'd been locked with her that he'd realised just how little he knew of life. If he thought he'd been burning in the fire of desire, he was turned to ash now. He felt pulled and pushed; she was reeling him in and throwing back out to reel him in again.

But no more.

He'd tasted the nectar of life on her lips. He'd been dazzled by the sparkle of her eye. He'd been swept by the silkiness of her touch.

And he wanted more.

His smile wavered temporarily when he remembered the way she had turned away from him last night and the way she'd tried to warn him this morning. His smile vanished completely when he recalled the damage she'd done to her own hand – and he knew it had been intentional. He'd seen it in her eyes.

He sat up suddenly and scowled at his hand, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking – he'd hoped his little stunt would have brought her closer, if only to bandage and it had worked.

Before it had backfired so completely.

But while he cursed his stupidity for causing the actions of this morning, he couldn't help but think that she had confirmed his suspicions. She loved him. Why else would she do what she had? Why else would she let him hold her? She responded to his touch, to his kiss. He had felt her tremble in his arms, seen her sway at their touch...

So why was she denying it?

The only reason Klavier could think of was that she was scared. He could understand that – he was hounded by the media all the time. Being in a relationship would mean her face was plastered everywhere, just like it had been with Deston. But with Klavier it was different – he was the lead singer and the media usually scrutinised him more than any of the others. She would have to deal with increased media attention, fans and so much more.

Or maybe she was afraid of dating him because he was her boss and she worried that if it did not work out, she would be out of the job. Klavier frowned at this, disbelieving that Ema could be so silly as to think he would ever let her go, let alone do anything to her professionally.

But then again, he hadn't forgotten what Edgeworth had told him. She was probably not the most trusting after what Gant had done to her and Lana. Klavier frowned. Did she think him capable of such treachery?

He would prove her wrong. He would prove to her that his love was true and strong. He would prove to her that he would do anything for her. He would do whatever it took to make her utter those words that he longed to hear. And if she continued to respond the way she had today, he didn't think he would have to wait too long.

"Prosecutor Gavin."

He spun around and saw a young officer standing in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Mr Gavin would like to see you, sir."

It took a moment for the sentence to register and when it did, Klavier's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "My bro?"

"Yes sir."

Klavier frowned and nodded absent-mindedly, all thoughts driven from his mind. What was that about? Ever since Klavier's return to the country, Kristoph hadn't asked to see him, not once, so why as he calling him now? He stood, picking up his keys and with each step he took towards the door, he felt his heart growing heavier – he didn't expect his conversation with Kristoph to be pleasant.

* * *

Kristoph was reading a book – just like the last time Klavier had visited him. He looked regal as ever, reclining in his chair, and when Klavier stepped into the cell, he frowned at the relief on his brother's face. Kristoph was on his feet almost instantly and standing before Klavier, his hands on his arms.

"You're well," Kristoph said with a smile.

"Ja," Klavier said, taken aback. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"I heard about your apartment," Kristoph said, his face pinching with worry. Klavier was bewildered at this display of emotion. "I was worried. They told me you were fine but I had to see you for myself."

"Everything is fine, bruder," Klavier said, stuffing his hands in his pocket. "I am surprised you even cared to ask."

Kristoph let go of Klavier and crossed his arms and tilted his head sideways, looking down at Klavier. The fact that his elder brother was a few inches taller than him didn't help the intimidation that he already felt. He felt there was more to the angle of his brother's gaze than a difference in height. It reminded him of his father and the image always left him cold.

"I'm your brother still, Klavier," Kristoph said, calmly. "I haven't stopped caring about your welfare."

"That is strange," Klavier said, walking towards his brother's bookshelf, unable to continue looking at him. "What happens to this brotherhood you speak of when I ask you why you betrayed me? Why you killed a man?"

A pause followed this question and Klavier was frozen, looking at the books but not seeing them, every nerve in his body on edge, waiting for an answer.

"I trust there were no casualties during the attack?"

Fury flared up inside of Klavier and he spun around to face his brother who looked calm as ever – not at all like a man who'd been questioned on his crime by his family. "Casualties?" Klavier echoed. "That is all you have to say?"

"What would you like me to say?" Kristoph said, walking to his armchair and settling into it comfortably. "Would you like me to tell you that your brother is an evil human being who murdered for the thrill of it?"

Klavier shook his head at Kristoph disgustedly. "_Du solltest dich schämen. Mutter_ would be."

"Wrong, Klavier," Kristoph said and Klavier's frown let up in surprise. "She wouldn't care. The only one she was ever concerned with was you."

Klavier gaped at his brother, almost paralysed by the increasing rage running through him. "I cannot believe you are still spouting this bullshit." He was barely concealing the way his body was beginning to shake. "She cared about you too."

Kristoph waved his hand dismissively and Klavier saw the scar. Not for the first time, he wondered about its origin but did not ask because he knew he would not get an answer. "I don't care about Mother's feelings for me," Kristoph said and Klavier's jaw clenched. "I am quite content with all the attention she gave you. My only point is if it was you in this chair, then yes, she would be ashamed. However, as I am the one sitting here instead, I don't think she would be particularly upset."

"Be quiet!" Klavier snapped. "Do not besmirch her memory with your hare-brained assumptions. She was a noble woman who loved both of her sons and would have continued to love us no matter how much of a monster either one of us became!" His fist clenched. "Perhaps, had she lived, you would not be in this hell. Perhaps, had your beloved mentor – "

"What happened to your hand?" Kristoph interrupted.

Klavier paused, thrown off by the sudden change in subject but then his rage was on fire again and he glared at Kristoph with all of the resentment he had. "Does it matter?" He shook his head and made towards the door of the cell. "You cannot even honour the woman who gave you life." He pried open the door a little and looked at his brother, trying not to let the sorrow that was simmering beneath his anger rise to the surface. "I am only your brother."

As he shut the cell from the outside and walked away, Kristoph stopped him.

"Klavier," he said from his position in the chair. "You are still young. You don't understand life. Do not judge me too harshly."

Klavier didn't turn aroundHe walked away trying to rearrange the mess that was his mangled heart. Every time he stepped inside his brother's cell was like stepping into fire, a different, agonising type of fire that threatened to destroy everything he was. It reminded him that he was now alone in the world – Kristoph had betrayed him in a way he had never expected. He had followed in his brother's footsteps, believing they would both bring justice in the world and yet now he found himself looking into the hell that had consumed Kristoph.

The only other person to share his mother's blood was locked away for spilling someone else's. Where had Kristoph lost his mind? What had happened that meant he could not resolve the problem without committing murder? Had he temporarily lost control of himself? Gone insane?

No... Remember – he defended Rafael. And he knew what Rafael was capable of. He knew what Rafael had done.

Suddenly, his body came to a halt and he sent up a silent prayer for the thought that had just crossed his mind. He had completely forgotten about the case he was meant to be investigating. Granted it had only been a day but a day was one day closer to the Jurist System. It was one day closer to uncertainty.

Shaking himself of the bitter taste the conversation with Kristoph had left in his mouth, Klavier stood still for several moments, taking deep breaths. He closed his eyes and willed himself into control and when he felt some of the tension leave him, his eyes opened again. He ran a hand over his face, took another deep breath and made towards Simon's cell. He passed the warden's office, knocking briefly on his door, and the man – who knew the drill by now – followed Klavier to Simon's cell. The young prosecutor had decided.

He wasn't going to wait anymore. He was going to find out why Simon had done what he'd done.

Simon wasn't lying down this time – he was sat up, leaning forward and staring at his hands and Klavier wondered if this new position meant something. When Simon heard the rattle of keys, he looked up at Klavier.

"Herr Lowes," he said, nodding once. "How are you?"

"Great," Simon said dryly. "How's your friend?"

Klavier smiled at the thought of Ema and some of the negativity in his chest lifted. "She is well, thank you."

Simon smiled – a genuine smile. "I'm glad to hear she's all right." He shook his head. "I admit, I was worried."

Klavier turned his head to the side and regarded Simon. The man seemed genuinely pleased with the news and he found that he was touched by Simon's concern. There was no need for him to care what happened to Klavier, let alone a woman he had never met. He walked to the extra chair that was in the room and seated himself in it, facing Simon.

"I appreciate that, Herr Lowes."

"Simon," the other replied, looking back at him. "And what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? I expect you've got another set of questions for me?" He was smirking.

Klavier stared at him, silently. He didn't want to ask Simon this question because he knew it would be painful but he had no choice. He knew that the reason behind Simon agreeing to help Rafael was important somehow. So, he took a deep breath and took the plunge.

"I wish to know why you agreed to help Rafael."

Simon's face lost all traces of the smile and he paled considerably. He sat up straight, as if in shock, and his fists clenched. "What?" he said quietly but Klavier heard the menace lacing his tone.

"Let me explain something to you, Simon," Klavier said. "There is a lot of dissatisfaction with the current legal system. In order to test whether a change in the judicial process might help with criminal trials, a new system is being tried out soon. You have heard of the Jurist system, ja?" Simon gave a stiff nod. "There will be a trial simulation soon. If it is deemed successful, it will be implemented. However, as the Jurist system relies heavily on the judgement of 'normal' people rather than cold, hard evidence, the death penalty will be abolished." He paused, waiting to see if Simon had realised where he was taking this. Judging by the slow ascent of his eyebrows, he had. "Anybody who was sentenced to death will have their sentences converted to life imprisonment. I do not need to remind you that if that happened, it would give all those prisoners the chance to be released in the future."

"Rafael." Simon said through clenched teeth and Klavier knew he understood.

"Indeed. As it is, Rafael's death sentence is in two weeks, however, I do not wish to take the risk and simply wait for it. You see the trial simulation is being chaired by somebody else and I do not know when it will take place. So it is a race against time. If I can present hard facts, I can perhaps have the sentence carried out earlier."

Simon looked at his hands and instantly nodded. Klavier frowned, wondering what the gesture meant but then the Latino looked up and his mouth was set in a determined line. "I'll tell you."

"Thank you," Klavier said, relief flooding him. He had expected more resistance but maybe he'd underestimated Simon's need to see Rafael hang for his crime. "Please tell me everything. From the beginning."

* * *

Sie sollten sich schämen - You ought to be ashamed


	6. A Tale Of Two Lovers

A Tale Of Two Lovers

'.'

I, the seducer of Life and Youth,

Have been silenced by her song;

For I have discovered the truth,

That I've been dead all along.

.'.

_Simon's knock was interrupted as the door flew open and a tall man with dark hair and gray eyes smiled at him widely. Their hands clapped into a handshake and he pulled Simon into the house._

_"Glad you could make it," David said and Simon laughed, pulling away from his friend._

_"Get a grip, amico mio," Simon said. "No touchy feely stuff."_

_"Get your mind out of the gutter, you bastard!" David was laughing. Simon paused and looked around the flat that his friend now lived in and whistled appreciatively._

_"Cool digs, man," Simon said._

_"Only the best for Gale," David said and Simon saw the affectionate smile that adorned his friend's lips and once again, his interest was piqued by the elusive Gale he had yet to meet. He wanted to see the woman who had brought the unthinkable to David's face, the unbelievable to his heart. Simon had never imagined David's features would have been the playground for such emotions and their existence shocked him still._

_"When do I get to meet your Gale?" Simon asked._

_"She's in the kitchen," David answered with another wide smile and again, Simon marvelled at the change she had brought in his friend. Not too long ago, David had been incapable of holding a conversation without glaring at somebody and now..._

_"Gale!" David called loudly and Simon smirked; at least David had retained his commanding tone._

_"Why are you shouting?" A soft voice enquired and Simon turned as a young woman stepped into the room, a towel in her hands._

_The moment Simon's eyes landed on her, he was entranced. Her dark hair spilled around her, glistening and lush, framing the most intriguing face he'd ever seen. Her plump lips were lifted into a gentle smile, giving rise to defined cheekbones. Her skin glowed like the waters beneath the dying light of the sun that gave way to the night of her eyes, studded with the shine of the stars. They shimmered tantalisingly, like the secrets of the universe he had glimpsed but could never reach._

_And he struggled to hide his face, knowing David would kill him if he saw the instant attraction Simon felt._

_"This is Gale," David said before smiling at his girlfriend. "Gale, this is Simon."_

_She moved toward him and Simon saw the grace with which she moved; the silken dress that flowed around her knees and clinched at her waist rippled lightly, hinting at the voluptuous shape of her body. He saw the almost flawless ascension of her arm as she held out a hand. Hesitantly, he clasped it in his and his eyes snapped up to hers at the shock that jolted him. He saw the smile falter and her eyebrows draw together for the briefest of __moments but then she was smiling again as if nothing had happened._

_"It's nice to meet you, Simon," she said and Simon wished she hadn't spoken at the same time wishing she would never stop talking. Her fingers slipped from his and she stepped back, letting David curl an arm around her._

_Seeing David's hand on her shoulder snapped Simon back to his senses who inclined his head and flashed her a smile. "And you, amica mia," he said. "It's about time I met the famous Gale. I've heard so much about you and I gotta say you definitely live up to the praise."_

_Amusement — and something else — touched some part of him when he saw her blush. "Thank you."_

_"Watch out for this one, babe," David said, squeezing her shoulder as he laughed. "He's a rogue. He's known for trying to steal what doesn't belong to him just 'cause it's not his."_

_Simon winked but his insides were humming with something he'd never felt before. His eyes locked onto Gale, who was staring at him with an expression he couldn't fathom, her eyes searching him and he had the most unsettling premonition this woman was going to change his life._

* * *

'.'

And behind this fortress of pride,

That you have so stubbornly built,

How long will you cower and hide,

Before you face your guilt?

.'.

"_You need to think about it," Simon said firmly, fixing his gaze solidly on the man in front of him. David was a picture of his old self, glaring at Simon darkly. The latter knew David was annoyed with him because he was telling him the things he didn't want to hear. "You know what it means."_

_"I don't need to hear this from you," David said condescendingly. "I know what's what."_

_"I know," Simon nodded, slipping his hands into his pocket and staring out at the sea beside them. "You know it better than anyone else. I just..." He sighed. "We both know how dangerous your brother is."_

_"Rafael has no idea where I am," David said coldly. "I've made sure of that. He won't find me..." Suddenly, his voice dropped menacingly. "Unless someone tells him."_

_"Would you cut it out?" Simon snapped. "I wouldn't tell him anything. I'm just saying Gale's — "_

_"I've already told Gale everything," David interrupted, his voice rising again. "She knows the risks."_

_Simon frowned and his fingers curled into a fist. This information should have pleased him but it only made him angrier — did David think telling her was enough? Did he think that the knowledge would redeem him if anything happened to her?_

_"She's willing to remain by your side in spite of Rafael's...?"_

_"Yes. You obviously underestimate her loyalty to me." David uncrossed his arms and looked away from Simon __whose frown had deepened. His respect and admiration of Gale grew once more and he lowered his head, wondering how much more he could feel for her before he exploded. He was barely surviving the days — seeing her with David did things to him he didn't know how to handle. He'd never cared about a woman the way he did with her. He'd never woken up thinking of a woman the way he did with her, never wanted to see someone as much as he did her, never dreamt of anyone's eyes like hers..._

_"That doesn't — "_

_"Simon," David cut across him sharply. "That's enough. I've discussed all I'm going to discuss. This isn't your business." And without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, a tall and strong figure whose pride, Simon felt, would one day set off a chain reaction of cataclysmic events._

* * *

'.'

You are embodied perfection,

And for you I'll wage this war —

Not simply to win your affection,

But to help you open a door.

.'.

"_I need to talk to you," Simon said the moment the door opened and the woman of his dreams stood before him, a confused expression on her face. He saw the look change into understanding and then frustration._

_"Simon," her voice was still soft but he heard the warning in it. "If this is about Rafael again, I've — "_

_"Gale," Simon said quietly, staring at her, willing her to understand with his eyes. She stared back at him momentarily before stepping aside and letting him pass. He sweeped the flat with his eyes. Everything in him wanted him to turn around and drink in the sight of her, commit every line to his memory and recommit anything he'd forgotten... but he couldn't. He had to stay focused._

_He had decided to tell her how he felt... and get out of her life forever. Paranoia had driven him to watch over her, guard her and to keep an eye out for Rafael but he had started to think he was fooling himelf. David seemed to sure nothing was going to happen to either of them and Simon wondered if he had convinced himself Gale was in danger only to give himself the reason he needed to stay close to her._

_"I'm not here to talk about Rafael," Simon said, his back still turned to her. "I'm only here to tell you something."_

_He heard her soft footsteps as she shifted behind him and when she stepped into the line of his vision he turned away again, crossing his arms. He knew that his unwillingness to look at her might hurt her but he couldn't think about that now. Suddenly, her hand fell gently on his arm and he looked at her, surprised. She was looking up at him with soulful eyes, sadness etched in the lines of her beautiful face as if she understood something._

_"Simon..." her voice was melodic as always and he felt the seams of his body begin to unravel. "Are you here to tell me what I think you are?" Simon simply stared at her silently. After a moment she lowered her gaze as if she understood. "I treasure your friendship... I treasure you." She moved until she was standing before him and looking up into his eyes once more. "You're my best friend. Please... don't leave me."_

_Simon was lost even before he'd started. His arms came about her and he gathered her into an embrace as his heart began to bleed because even as he hugged her now, someone else held the one thing he desired most. __He closed his eyes, letting himself feel the warmth of the woman in his arms. He ran his hands through the silky waves of her hair and he dropped a kiss on her temple._

_"I wish you wouldn't read my mind," Simon chuckled weakly. Everything about her shook the very foundations of his being, ridding him of any sense he had managed to gather._

_"Simon," she said quietly. "Please."_

_Simon sighed and looked at her, frowning when he saw the fear in her face. What was scaring her? He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong but stopped when he realised that whatever it was, she would not tell him. He sighed again and bumped his forehead against hers lightly._

_"I'm here," he whispered. "For as long as you want."_

_She smiled at him and the relief that radiated off her in waves made him frown again. Why was she so afraid all of a sudden?_

_"David might be home soon," Gale said, taking a deep breath._

_Simon tensed at the sound of his friend's name and nodded. "Yeah..." He didn't want to cause any trouble for her. "I should go."_

* * *

'.'

I choose her over you, my friend,

Because your actions echo wild.

I cannot break this rule nor bend,

For the wishes of a reckless child.

.'.

"_You know what you're doing is wrong," Simon said, glaring at David. "You're putting her life at risk!"_

_David grabbed a handful of Simon's jacket and pulled him close, snarling in his face. "I know what I'm doing! Don't you dare try to screw this up for me!"_

_"I'm trying to __stop__ you screwing up," Simon retorted, pushing David away aggressively. "You're going to mess her life up if you don't do something about this!"_

_"About __what__?" David growled. "Everything was fine until you started barking about — "_

_"The reason I'm _**_barking_**_," Simon yelled, "is I care about her and I don't want to see anything happen to her!"_

_David's eyes narrowed suddenly and Simon groaned, recognising the suspicious look. "You _**_care_**_ about her?" he echoed. "What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"What the hell do you think?" Simon said exasperatedly. "She's my friend and I'm not gonna —"_

_"You're not going to __what__ exactly?" David murmured menacingly._

_Simon was quiet for moment realising that if he said the wrong thing, he could cause trouble for Gale. So he __took a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke. "Look, Dave — I care about you both. I just don't — "_

_"Don't call me that!" David said sharply and Simon closed his eyes, disbelieving of his own stupidity – only Rafael called him that._

_____"Alright, sorry," Simon apologised. "All I'm saying is you're my friend and I d — "_

_"If you're a friend you'll stay out of my way from now on," David interrupted. "And stay away from her too. I don't trust your so-called friendship and I want you gone from our lives. You got me?"_

_Simon stared back at him silently, knowing that anything he said would only start a fight — because there was no way he was going anywhere until Gale told him to._

* * *

'.'

Time upon time, I will suffer death,

And, yes, I will stand against him too,

I'll protect you with my every breath —

Because I can't choose him over you.

.'.

"_Stay the hell away from her, do you understand me?" David hissed into Simon's face._

_"Why?" Simon whispered. "Are you threatened by me?"_

_"David!" Gale cried. "No!"_

_David's eyes flashed and his fist collided with Simon's face, knocking him off-balance. Simon wiped at the blood that trickled out through his lips and looked at David. His hand had curled into a fist but he glanced at Gale who looked distressed and he kept control for her sake. "Typical move for a typical thug," he spat._

_David's fist was in the air again but just as Simon readied himself for the next attack, Gale was suddenly standing between them, glaring up at David._

_"If you hit him one more time, I'll slap you," Gale snapped at him._

_"What the hell are you saying?" David looked angrier than ever and Simon grabbed Gale, trying to push her out of the way. "You're taking his side?"_

_"Move it, Gale," Simon commanded but she ignored him, slapping away his hands. He saw the dangerous gleam that was getting clearer and clearer in David's eyes and anxiousness gripped him._

_"Stop acting like a neanderthal. He hasn't done anything!"_

_"He has feelings for you!" David snarled._

_"Where's your proof?" Gale demanded. "He hasn't said a word to me!"_

_"I don't need to — "_

_"Shut up!" she said sharply and Simon's alarm increased at the way David's eyes flashed again and just as he was about to push her out of the way again, David turned around and stomed off. They watched him for a moment before Simon spoke._

_"You shouldn't have done that, babe," Simon muttered._

___Her voice was shaking when she answered and he couldn't tell whether it was from anger or something else. _"I wasn't going to stand by and let him hit you."

_"Why?"_

_"Because you're my best friend," Gale said, tearing her gaze away from the reatreating figure. "And I wouldn't let any harm come to you."_

* * *

'.'

The sorrow I was forced to bear—

Moulded me to be your armour.

To banish all of your despair,

With the strength of my ardour.

.'.

_If Simon ever found David Rainsford, he would kill him. He would take him apart slowly and drown him in the pain so that he could feel an ounce of what he'd put Gale through.. He would him pay for every tear that journeyed down her cheek. He would make him scream for every sob that wracked and shook her body._

_Simon ran a hand through Gale's hair as she rested her head against his shoulders, her eyes closed and dried streaks of tears still on her cheeks. He tugged the blanket around her tighter as he planted an unnoticed kiss on her sleeping face._

_He would make the bastard pay for the destruction Simon had known David would leave in his wake... but even as he made himself this promise unease tugged at him. If he had suspected this would happen all along and had not prevented it, what did that make him?_

* * *

'.'

And the silence you choose,

Only screams your pain.

Hiding behind this ruse,

Only strengthens your chain.

.'.

"_Gale..." Simon sat down beside her._

_"I said I don't want to talk about it, Simon," she said quietly, looking up from the notepad she was scribbling on. "I just want to leave it behind."_

_"Look, I know him. Maybe if you told me what happened, or where he is, I could bring him — "_

_"He's not coming back," Gale said quietly, looking down at the papers in her hand._

_"Why?" he asked. "What happened?"_

_"Simon."_

* * *

'.'

I'll make you shed the grief,

That's clothed you for so long.

I'll give you back your belief,

And make you strong.

.'.

"_Come on," Simon said loudly to make himself be heard above the music. "Admit it, babe! You're having fun!"_

_Gale laughed sheepishly. "Okay, okay! You got me."_

_"See?" Simon grinned widely. "Coming to this club was exactly what you needed."_

_"If you say so," Gale said, sipping from the drink in her hand. Suddenly, Simon lifted the glass out of her fingers and settled it on a nearby table, pulling her deeper into the throng of dancers. His hand found its way around her waist and he closed the distance between them, smiling at her._

_"Come on," he said encouragingly. "Dance with me."_

_Gale looked at him uncertainly and he saw the shadow of her sorrow rise from that place she hid all of her feelings. His heart sank a little at the look but then it was gone and, unexpectedly, her arms wrapped around his neck. She smiled at him and Simon's tension alleviated. It had been over two years since David had left her and almost a decade since Simon had met her. He'd learnt to read her eyes and they seemed to be telling him something his heart was too afraid to listen to..._

_"Fine," she said and his eyes were drawn to her lips. "I'll dance with you."_

_And she did. Her body swayed in synch with his, her hands moving across his shoulders and down his arms as her gaze never drifted from his. He was losing himself in the depths of her eyes and his face lowered of his own accord even while his mind was screaming at him to stop, that he would scare her or push her too far..._

_"Simon..." she muttered and the music drowned out her voice but he saw her lips move, saw the smile fade. He looked into her eyes and saw the uncertainty and guilt floating there. He nodded understandingly, letting her move away and she smiled gratefully before leaving the dance floor. With another sigh, Simon followed after her. _

* * *

'.'

Come into my arms for your healing,

Let my heart envelope yours.

Give yourself into this feeling,

And leave behind this war.

.'.

"_Why are you angry, Gale?" Simon yelled after her as she stalked down the beach._

_She spun around and glared at him, the dark cloak of hair whipping around her. "I'm not angry!" she yelled back. Her shouting was so at odds with her claim that Simon found himself laughing. "What's so funny?" she demanded._

_He crossed his arms and stared at her. She rarely got this angry and when she did she was a sight to behold — her cheeks flushed, her eyes glittered and her chest heaved. She looked so sensual that Simon had a hard time keeping himself from yanking her into his embrace and kissing her._

_"Why are you so angry?" Simon asked again with a smile and he tried to quash the flame of hope that sparked to life. "_**_She _**_kissed _**_me_**_!__ It's not my fault. I didn't see it coming!"_

_Gale's eyes flashed. "Don't flatter yourself, I don't care who you kiss!" she snapped, and her stubborn stance added fuel to the flame that was flickering in his heart._

_"Can I come closer?" Simon said and he saw her irritated expression falter into surprise._

_"What?"_

_"Can I?"_

_She must have seen the look in his eyes or sensed it in his tone; she looked startled and he saw her lips part, as if she was going to say something, then close again. He saw that as a sign and took several steps towards her, watching for any sign that she would move away._

_"Stop," she said and Simon almost did — until the choked sound of her voice registered. And then he continued until he was standing right before her, staring into her hesitant and confused eyes._

_"I told you to stop," she whispered, looking up at him. He pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms and imprisoning her. He could feel her heart pouding heavily._

_"You don't mean that."_

_He waited for her to contradict him and to tell him he had it all wrong but she did neither. She continued to stare at him, her eyes roaming his face and he watched her expression. He was afraid that any movement would break the spell and she would pull away and tell him to leave her alone. Yet, she was still watching him as the first drops of rain fell on her face and, unnoticed, trickled down her face. He could see her examining him, could see the shifting emotions in her eyes; anger, uncertainty, doubt, surprise, curiosity, guilt..._

_"How long are you going to remain faithful to a ghost?" Simon whispered._

_Gale's eyes snapped up to his and the reprimand he expected never came — only the rain punctuated the silence. She raised a hand to his mouth and brushed it with her finger, rubbing the tip of it back and forth across his lip. Simon's body reacted and he responded by pressing her harder into his body and she let out an inaudible gasp._

_"Do you want me to kiss you?" he asked, leaning down until the raindrops fell from his face onto hers. She shook her head but her eyes were fixed on his and her fingers were still on his arms. His body was painfully aware of hers, made easier to feel with her increasingly wet clothes... but more than this, he was aware of the __answer he saw in her eyes._

_"You're lying," he murmured just before his mouth descended on hers and he was kissing her. The blood boiled and rushed in his veins, the flame in him flaring into a raging fire that licked at his heart, warming him to the core. She gasped and then her arms had travelled around his neck of their own violation and she was kissing him back, accepting his tongue and pulling him into her._

_Her hand travelled down his arm and as if he knew her inside out, like the synchronised harmony of century old lovers, his own moved up to meet hers. His fingers, slick with the rain, interlaced with hers and held it as if this union of hands was almost as passionate and intimate as the kiss they shared. They were not coming up for air, nor stopping to look at each other; they were too caught up in the electric tension and passion enveloping them both and even the storm that had begun to rage around them could not have dampened it._

_And in that one kiss he had been waiting for, Simon finally came to life._

* * *

'.'

Let me take you beyond the mountains

Where the beckoning sun calls.

Let me bathe you in the fountains,

Where the sweetest water falls.

.'.

"_Yeah right!" Gale scoffed and it was so unlike her that Simon laughed. "There's no way you're getting me back to that beach!"_

_"Why?" Simon asked, enveloping her into his arms._

_"Because you kept tossing me in there like a beachball and as much as I like the cool water, I don't like to be thrown in it unceremoniously," Gale answered, pulling away but he locked his arms together, preventing her escape._

_"That was 7 months ago, princess," he murmured into her ear with a smirk. "I've grown up since then."_

_"Not enough for me to trust you around the sea, mister!"_

_He just kissed her. And, as it always did and always would, his heart soared when she returned it._

* * *

'.'

You lie to my face with such ease,

And tear my world in two.

You flinch from me like a disease...

Is that what I've been to you?

.'.

_His eyes fluttered open at the sound of a gentle thud. He looked to his right, expecting to find Gale but when he found it empty, he frowned and rubbed his bleary eyes. He sat up as another sound punctuated the silence and he saw Gale rummaging in the drawers at the foot of the bed.  
__  
"Morning, princess," he greeted with a yawn and she glanced over her shoulder._

_"Morning, Simon."_

_Something in her voice banished the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. He watched her as she continued to roam through the drawers and he saw that she was fully dressed, a coat draped over her shoulders._

_"Are you going somewhere?" Simon asked. He waited for a response but she only paused for a second and he didn't like the way she stiffened. He rose from the tangle of sheets on the bed and approached her. Taking her arm, he slowly turned her, lifting her face with his hand until she was looking at him. "What's going on, cucciola mia?"_

_She moved away, putting a distance between them that he didn't understand and suddenly, he felt knots form in his stomach._

_"I'm... going away for a while," she said quietly. "I need to be away and I..."_

_"Gale," Simon interrupted, the knots tightening painfully. "What the hell are you talking about?"_

_She breathed deeply. "I need to go away for a while, Simon," she repeated. "Please just... let me go."_

_His insides turned cold. "You don't want to be with me anymore?" he asked. "Is that what you're saying?"_

_She glanced out of the window that overlooked the beach. "If you meet someone else during my time away then... I wouldn't expect you to continue waiting for me."_

_He moved towards her then and she winced, quickly taking a step backwards and he froze at her reaction._

_"Why did you flinch like that?" She did nothing but look at him with deeply troubled eyes. __"Did you think I would _**_hit_**_ you?" he asked incredulously._

_"No," Gale replied shaking her head and then she approached him, lifting a hand to his face. "I would trust you with my life." She smiled at him sadly, her fingers caressing his cheek. "I'll be back. Take care of yourself for me." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him softly._

_Simon's frozen mind kicked into gear and he grabbed her, pressing his lips to hers in a deep, passionate kiss._

_"Don't leave me," Simon whispered against her mouth. "Please, don't leave me."_

_He saw the shadow of uncertainty pass across her eyes and she seemed to drift off, looking into some faraway place and he wondered if she was remembering the time she'd asked the same of him. He had stayed for her... surely she would stay with him?_

_"I'll be back," she whispered. "I promise."_

_And then she was gone and his arms fell to his side, empty... just like his heart._

* * *

'.'

The burning pain upon me feasts,

Possessing my body and taking control,

And all of my anger is now released,

Seeking to reclaim that which you stole.

.'.

_It had been two years since her return... two years since she had torn out his heart and thrown it to the wayside. Two years since she'd refused to tell him why she had left him and why she could not be with him anymore. Two years since he'd walked out of her door and never re-entered._

_But he still watched her._

_He could not sleep and could not function until he had caught a glimpse of her. All he needed was a glance at her face. He saw the sorrow that deepened every day he looked at her and he wondered if she had any idea that he was still there, standing in the shadows._

_And today, as he observed her walking with Bianca along the beach he had often frequented with her, he felt the same as always; he wanted to walk up to her, wrap her in his arms and tell her he loved her more than life itself, that he would look after her. He wanted to kiss her and make her believe she could be with him and that whatever she was hiding, he could live with her secrets as long as he could be with her._

_And today, like every other day, he turned around and walked away, knowing it could never be. Because she had told him so — and he couldn't go against her._

* * *

'.'

His words are a stinging balm,

That do slowly transform,

All of my serenity and calm

Into a raging storm.

.'.

"_...but now that I see you got a thing for her, I'm willing to let her be," Rafael said, leaning back into the sofa comfortably. Simon stiffened._

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"I was going to use her as leverage against my good brother..." Rafael said with a smile. "But obviously I wouldn't want to upset you."_

_Simon didn't miss the implication; if he didn't help Rafael, Gale was in danger. His eyes narrowed at Rafael while his heart began to pound from fear for her safety knowing full well he had to be cautious with this Rainsford. He considered his next words carefully._

_"Why are you dragging her into this? She has nothing to do with David anymore."_

_"She knows where he is," Rafael said. "I heard she disappeared on you for a year. Ever wonder where she went?"_

_Simon's heart froze.  
__  
Is that where she'd gone? Had she left him in the hope that she was going to get David back? Had she left him alone for a year, left him wondering what he'd done wrong, left him to torture himself with the what-ifs for a bastard that had walked out on her?_

_Is that what his love had meant to her?_

_"How do you know she visited David?" Simon asked icily._

_"I have my sources," Rafael said, looking at his nails. "So, what do you say? Get rid of him and she's all yours. You can walk away with Gale free and never have to worry about him again."_

_A beast that had slowly been growing inside of his chest now roared with life. Simon's eyes glittered with anger and everything inside of him had melted away leaving nothing behind but an insatiable need for revenge... for retribution._

_"I want him dead."_

* * *

'.'

Tell me, has the will to live left you so,

That you walked with death on your arm?

Tell me, has Life given you such woe,

That their demands gave you no alarm?

.'.

"_She's in that room," Kade said, looking up from the gun he was taking apart and nodding towards a large wooden door. Simon looked at it, anticipation coursing through him with the knowledge that he was so close to her._

_"How did you get her here?" Simon asked._

_"Easy. We told her to come with us and she did," Kade answered. He saw Simon staring at him._

_"What?" Simon asked blankly._

_"She just agreed to come with us — no hassle," Kade said._

_"Why would she do that?" Simon said, looking towards the door, posing the question more to himself than anyone else._

_"Beats me," Kade shrugged but Simon barely heard him — he was opening the door. "She didn't even seem surprised to see us."_

_Simon entered the room and found her sitting on a bed in the centre of the large room. She glanced up and when she saw him, she smiled._

_"Simon," she sighed with relief. He watched her, frozen in place, as she approached him and lifted a hand to his face. "I'm so glad you're okay."_

* * *

'.'

Your bleeding mouth has kissed awake,

The sanity he had cursed into sleep,

And as I move to remedy my mistake,

Too late, my heart begins to weep.

.'.

_Simon spun around to face the sound of the opening door and Gale stumbled through it, blood trickling from her nose and mouth and he was paralysed with shock. He watched, dumbfounded as Rafael exited after her, his eyes shining in the same way David's always did when he was angry. He jabbed at Gale, pushing her forward and it was the sight of this violent gesture that moved him into action._

_"What the fuck did you do to her?" Simon shouted as he advanced on them. He took Gale into his arms, lifting her injured face to take a better look. The crimson rivers that journeyed from her mouth and nose kicked his fury to a level it had never before reached. He pulled her behind him, turning to face Rafael. "You fucking bastard! You said you wouldn't touch her!"_

_"Get out of the way, Lowes," Rafael ordered. "Don't piss me off."_

_"Over my dead body!" Simon snarled._

_"Don't be a fool, Simon," Kade cut in and he turned to see him standing nearby along with several other men who'd surrounded them. He glanced at Gale and he felt a sense of horror wash over him; he couldn't protect her against all of them. He was outnumbered._

_"Look, I'll find David for you," Simon said, trying to reason with Rafael. "Give me a month and I'll have him on your doorstep."_

_Rafael moved forward and Simon saw the feral look that was darkening in his eyes. He felt another pang of fear and he pushed Gale back until she was trapped between him and the wall._

_"I said," Rafael's voice had dropped dangerously, "get out of the way."_

_"What the fuck are you going to gain from hurting Gale?" Simon shouted._

_"This is the last time I'll tell you," Rafael said. "Get the fuck out of the way, Lowes."_

_"Simon," Gale whispered from behind him and the sound seemed to freeze everyone in the room for the moment. Even Rafael stopped and turned his steely eyes on her. "It's okay. Just move aside."_

_Simon heard the way her voice was shaking and it was that, more than anything else, that spurred him into action. Without warning, he launched himself on Rafael, his arm flying through the air and his elbow making contact with his face. Rafael stumbled backwards but Simon attacked again and the older Rainsford doubled over as Simon punched him in the gut._

_Suddenly, the rest all converged on him like animals but, through the haze of pain that they inflicted on him and before the darkness claimed him, he registered only one thing — the sound of Gale screaming his name. _

* * *

'.'

I lacked the courage to trust your kiss,

And I thought I was alone in loving at all.

So, I danced on the edge of this dark abyss;

Still, my hand you grab, as I take this fall.

.'.

_When he awoke, he was seeing through rivers of blood that trailed down his face, dripping into his eyes. He was tied to a chair and when he tried to yank free, his body screamed with pain. He looked around for Gale to see her tied to a pillar in the room, her eyes wide._

_"Gale," he whispered hoarsely._

_"Oh good," Rafael said, stepping into sight and Simon's heart stopped when he saw the knife he was holding, slowly stroking the blade. "You're awake. Now we can get on with it."_

_"Please don't hurt her," Simon pleaded. "Let me find David for you..." He coughed and that familiar metallic taste filled his mouth. "I promise I'll find him..."_

_"Hmmm," Rafael paused as if considering the proposal but then he spoke and Simon knew it was over. "I think not. You'll just run off with Gale and I'll have lost my only chance to get something over on Dave." He glanced at the woman who'd remained deathly silent the whole while. "If you won't tell me where he is, I guess I'll just have to make do with killing you."_

_"Don't you fucking dare, Rainsford!" Simon screamed. "Gale, tell him! Just tell him where the fuck he is!"_

_But Gale simply stared at Simon with her unfathomable eyes, ignoring Rafael as he approached her and Simon was forced to watch as his deal with the devil claimed his soul._

* * *

'.'

Entwined at our deepest roots,

Together we shall fly.

One another's forbidden fruit,

Together we shall die.

.'.

"_Simon..."_

_His body trembled and he crawled across the ground to where she lay in a pool of her own blood. Weakness flowed through him like a poison he couldn't fight and a guttural sound escaped him as he reached her. His hands skimmed over her body and he slipped his arms under her, pulling her head into his lap. Simon's eyes locked onto her bare abdomen drenched and pulsing with blood. His throat clogged painfully and his world rocked._

_"No..." he whispered brokenly. "No, no, no..."_

_"Take me a...away..." Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him through layers of pain glossed with tears. "From here..."  
__  
Ignoring the pain that shot through him, he lifted her into his battered arms and shook his head trying to clear his vision. He took unsteady steps towards the doorway her murderers had left through and carried her out determinedly ignoring the way his body longed to collapse. Her arms slipped from around his neck, hanging loose, and her head slumped against his shoulder. Fear gripped him._

_"Gale?" he whispered, terrified of the silence that would follow._

_"Mmm..." she hummed. He needed to get her to a hospital. He stepped out onto the deserted road... and hope mocked him from afar. He glanced at the woman in his arms._

_No... I won't let you go..._

_He made to move forward but his strength, which had been faltering traitorously, gave out and his legs crumpled beneath him. He landed on his knees painfully but he clung to her, keeping her safe in his arms._

_"Put me down," she breathed and her fingers fluttered on his neck. "Please."_

_"I have to get you to a hospital," Simon said, trying to stand up again, looking at her face for the energy he needed._

_"Simon."_

_"We aren't far from..."_

_"Listen...to me..."_

_"...you'll be fine."_

_"Simon," Gale said with a little more force and her fingers tightened weakly on his shoulder. He looked at her through a haze of blood and sweat. "Please..."_

_And while a part of him wanted to ignore her, his arms were lowering her into his lap. He touched her face with his bloodstained fingers, brushing aside her hair, gazing into her face. She looked almost peaceful and he shook his head to rid himself of the tears that arose. How could these tears come to his eyes? He wanted nothing to blur the beauty he ached to see._

_"I'm sorry," he whispered and he almost choked on the inadequacy of his words. Her fingers touched his lips gently and she smiled weakly._

_"No... I'm sorry." She coughed and his desperation rose when blood oozed out from in between her lips._

_"We have to take you to a hospital," Simon said, trying to lift her again but she touched his arm to stop him and Simon shook his head, ready to say something but her words ripped into him so thoroughly that he found himself at a loss for words._

_"No..." she looked at him with gentle eyes. "I want to... stay here... with you."_

_He closed his eyes against the shame and fear that washed over him. How could it have come to this? How could he have become the reason why she lay in his arms, drenched in her blood?_

_Her hand touched his face. "Look at me, Simon," she whispered and he opened his eyes again. Her other hand lifted to cover his where it lay against her cheek. As he gazed into her face he knew love, life, meaning was all done. It was all over. The world didn't exist anymore. He was suffocating under the weight of the imploding universe. Time didn't make sense as he stared into her eyes. He smiled faintly staring deep into the endless depths and smouldering intensity. This was the world he loved… this was his world. This was where he would stay forever and nobody could make him leave._

_"I love you..."_

_"Don't say that..." His voice cracked. "I don't — "_

_She took his hand and pressed her lips to it. "I love you, Simon Lowes."_

_"I love you too, princess," he whispered._

_She quietened and her eyelids fell. Panicked, Simon shook her. "Gale? Gale, wake up! Gale!" Her eyes opened again and he caressed her cheek, his desperation rising still and his heartbeat pounding. "You can't leave me... Remember you asked me not to leave you? You owe me one too. I'm collecting, princess."_

_"I'm sorry I left," Gale whispered. "Being away from you... was the hard...est thing I've... ever... had to... do."_

_"Why did you go?" Simon asked. His was voice was shaking now and she reached up to wipe the tears falling from his face._

___"To protect..." her eyes were flickering and she smiled faintly, "...our love."_

___And then her hand slid from his face and her eyes slowly closed. "Gale?" She didn't answer and he shook her again, the horror taking over him as her hand slowly moved down his chest. _

_"Princess?" He touched her face, her neck... he ran his fingers down her arm and lifted her hand to his mouth. His voice cracked as his body began to shake with sobs. "Stay with me..."_

_But he knew she was gone. Her soul, so full of light and redemption, was gone from his arms. The beautiful woman he had held, kissed, cherished and loved for so long had slipped into the eternal sleep and all he wanted was to lie beside her and follow her there._

_And still he whispered, hoping that she would hear him. "I love you princess..." he breathed. "I love you, I love you, I love you... I love you..."_

_She didn't move._

_He ran his fingers over the contours of her face, across the eyes that had been the gateway to her soul, now closed doors to the secrets he had never been able to touch. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have spent so long warning David and end up becoming the very threat he had tried to guard her against?_

_The loneliness crushed him and the horror overtook his mind. He thought of all the days ahead without her sweet words and mischievous remarks. He imagined, with mounting terror and helplessness, never being able to tell her how much he loved her… never again being able to touch her. Never seeing another smile to brighten his day. Never having the chance to make her laugh one more time. With increasing fear, he confronted the life he was facing… a lifetime without the woman who made him whole. The rest of his life waiting to join her. The rest of his days longing for her love and essence.  
__  
He lifted her lifeless body into a hug as he began to cry in earnest, his despair and regret convulsing his body. He pressed his lips to hers and the last thing he remembered before death claimed him once more was the taste of his own tears mingled with the sacrifice he had forced her to give._


	7. Need Answered

Need Answered

'.'

All that I've killed myself with every day,

The one thought that had been my ally,

The one belief that led my heart astray —

That truth has become the biggest lie.

.'.

A silence fell over them both as Klavier remained paralysed by the emotions that had thickened the air around them. His eyes were on the floor, unable to look at the wreck of the man that stood facing away from him. He breathed deeply and leaned forward, rubbing his eyes. He felt drained having only listened to the story and he dreaded looking Simon in the eye, afraid to see what he'd find there.

"I am sorry, Herr Lowes," Klavier said quietly. And he was. He was sorry for them both; sorry that they got caught up in a mess that belonged solely to two brothers. He was sorry that they had both lost so much because of it — Gale, her life and Simon his will.

And in that split second that he realised how devastating this case was, Klavier decided that he would do anything to resolve the mysteries and the questions that still haunted it. _I promise you, Simon_, he thought, looking at the man's stiff back, _I will uncover the truth. _

"I have a few questions," Klavier said after a while.

"Of course you do," Simon said with a dry laugh but Klavier heard the gravelly tone of his voice. He turned to face the young prosecutor who noticed the subtle shine of Simon's eyes.

Klavier smiled sheepishly. "It is an occupational hazard," he said.

"Ask away."

"Did you ever think that perhaps, Rafael was lying when he said Gale had left to see David?" Klavier frowned. "It seems odd to me that she was away for so long."

"Of course I thought of it," Simon scoffed. "Rafael's the spawn of Satan — he's a professional liar. But he also has his moments when he tells the truth, where he knows the truth will hurt." He sat down on his bed and rubbed his eyes. "I thought about it long and hard. Was he lying? Obviously it would benefit him to lie... but then if she didn't go to meet David, why _did_ she leave? And where did she go?"

Klavier thought about that for a moment. "Is there anybody you can think of that could...?"

Simon was shaking his head. "She wasn't in touch with many people. On top, she was extremely reserved. I don't think anybody in the world could ever figure her out." He smiled. "Sometimes, I found it attractive and then there were times I wanted to tear my hair out."

Klavier laughed.

"But..." Simon continued thoughtfully. "I always trusted her. I knew she would never betray anybody. She was unfailingly loyal."

"Ja," Klavier nodded. "I do not doubt it."

"I just don't know where else she could have gone," Simon said quietly. "What could be so bad that she couldn't tell me?" Klavier wondered if Simon was talking to himself now. "When she came back she'd changed... there was something different about her. She looked weak and tired and... heartbroken." He shook his head. "I knew her better than she realised. All that sadness I'd seen in her eyes, that I'd spent so long trying to get rid of... It was back."

Klavier was storing all of this information in his mind because he knew, from experience, how the smallest piece of information could solve a mind-numbing mystery. So, while Simon talked, Klavier listened... and tried to piece it all together.

"What else could bring that emotion back into her eyes except David?" Simon asked. "Why else would she leave me?"

"But Simon," Klavier interjected. "Gale said staying away from you was the hardest thing she did. Surely, if she wanted to resume a relationship with David, she would have never said that."

"Then why did she leave?" Simon asked.

"I do not know," Klavier admitted. "Is there nobody you could ask?"

"Already tried. Nobody has any idea."

Klavier didn't reply; he joined Simon in his thoughtful silence. Why had Gale left? Klavier very much doubted it had anything to do with David. He didn't know why but he couldn't shake the nagging feeling he'd overlooked something. Maybe it was the very fact that Rafael had said she had visited David so if he'd known that's where she'd been...

"Simon," Klavier said and the man looked at him. "Do you think Gale knew where David was?"

Simon looked surprised. "Yeah, why not?"

"Why would she?" Klavier asked, running a hand over his mouth contemplatively as he tried to pick apart the myriad of thoughts running through his prosecutor's mind. "Did she ever actually say to you or Rafael that she knew where he was?"

Simon frowned throughfully. "No... but she never denied knowing where he was."

"In other words, she neither denied nor confirmed her knowledge of his location?"

Simon's expression was slowly morphing into one of shock as Klavier's words registered. "But why wouldn't she say so if she didn't know? It could have saved her life!"

"This is true. However," Klavier sighed. "We must bear in mind that Gale did many things that do not make sense."

"But that's insane!" Simon said agitatedly and he was on his feet again. "Even she wouldn't put her life at risk for something like that!"

"And yet, I wonder why Rafael had to resort to angering you and recruiting you; if he knew where Gale went during the year she was AWOL, why not simply follow her? If she was going to David's and he knew the fact, he could have saved himself a lot of trouble and just tracked her. Unless that is not where she really was and he was only pushing you to join him."

"But why?" Simon asked. "Why would he go through all the trouble of getting me to join him? He barely let me anywhere near her most of the time and even when he went to kidnap her, he only took Kade."

"You said he threatened to hurt her if you did not help him."

"Yeah."

"Perhaps..." Simon looked at Klavier whose stomach was churning unpleasantly at the next thought. "It was not really her that was the leverage." Klavier's mind was whirring now and he was having a difficult keeping up with his thoughts. "Could it be the other way around?"

"What?"

"Simon," Klavier's voice was grave now as some of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "Gale was aware of Rafael's nature and so she must have known that, when he approached her, she was in danger. Yet, you said that she was strangely compliant in accompanying him — without any trouble." Simon was frozen. "Perhaps, the leverage all along... was you."

Simon's face turned ashen. Klavier swallowed, not only because of the bile that had risen to his throat but because of what he was about to tell Simon: that by agreeing to help Rafael, that by falling prey to his games, he had sealed her fate inevitably.

"Rafael did not use you for anything. He did not allow you near her. I think your only function in his plan was to be the bargaining chip, so to speak. I think..." He took another deep breath, trying to ignore the heaviness that seemed to be falling on his shoulders. "He threatened to hurt you if Gale did not comply."

He watched Simon sink to the bed as if he were sapped of all his energy. "No..."

Klavier felt sick at the possibility but it made sense... and he would never put it past Rafael and his silver tongue to play such games. He hooked his thumb in his belt loop and closed his eyes; he was saddened that someone as pure as Gale had fallen victim to such monstrosity. To think her goodness was used against her...

"She..." Simon whispered. "When... she said she was glad I was okay..." He looked at Klavier with horrified eyes. "I didn't understand... but now..."

Klavier sighed, more deeply this time. "I am sorry, Simon, but I promise you one thing — I _will_ bring Rafael to justice. I _will_ avenge her death."

Simon didn't answer. Klavier wondered if the man had heard him and just as he was about to say something else, the Latino looked up. Klavier was taken aback at the fury he saw in his eyes but not by its presence — it was the resemblance it bore to the dark look he'd seen in Rafael's gaze when he'd spoken of David. The prosecutor didn't flinch this time though... because if he'd been in Simon's shoes, the same look would probably adorn him.

"Make sure you do," Simon said in a low voice. "Because if you don't, I will."

"No," Klavier said instantly, his voice hard. "Do not do anything reckless. I will deal with it. You — "

"The death sentence isn't enough for a bastard like him!" Simon shouted. "He'll walk to his death with a big smile on his face!"

"I know," Klavier said calmly. "I am aware of it. And I _will_ punish him but you must leave it to me. All I require from you is information and you have given me enough. Now let me do my job."

Simon's eyes continued to shimmer dangerously and Klavier was apprehensive for a moment, thinking that Simon would do something he would regret but then his eyes closed and he seemed to take a breath. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"I'm trusting you," Simon said. "Don't let me down."

"I will not," Klavier said, firmly. "I promise you. I will make him suffer."

Silence fell about them again and Klavier didn't know what to say to break it. So, he rose to his feet and just as he was about to take his leave, Simon spoke again, his head lowered.

"You need to talk to Kade," he said. "He spent the most time with her, especially towards the end. I'm sure he knows something."

"Will he talk to me?" Klavier asked. "Or will he be trouble?"

Simon seemed to consider the question. "If you say the right thing, you might be able to get him to talk."

"What is the right thing?"

Simon smirked. "Namely that you're trying to get rid of Rafael."

Klavier wasn't surprised. "Herr Richards hates him too, does he?"

"I don't think anybody likes Rafael, Mr Gavin," Simon said and Klavier was startled at the formality with which he addressed him. It felt odd coming from him somehow.

"Klavier," he offered. "And why did Kade help him?"

"No doubt Rafael blackmailed him," Simon shrugged. "That's how he usually works."

Klavier nodded absent-mindedly, wondering if he could go see the man now. Hopefully he could shed some light on the gathering pile of mysteries that Klavier was sinking in.

"I will resolve this for her, Simon," Klavier reassured him. The other nodded, running his hands over his face. _And for you_, he thought to himself. _I will obtain justice for the both of you. _

Klavier made his way to the cell door and just as he opened it, he heard Simon say his name. With a questioning look, he turned to the man; Simon was looking at him with a serious expression.

"Thank you," he said, quietly.

Klavier bowed his head. "Gale saved my life. The least I can do is bring to justice the man who stole hers."

Simon smiled and again, Klavier was surprised at the genuine nature of it — he only ever saw a smirk or a self-effacing, mocking grin.

"Always treasure your woman, Klavier," Simon said. "Never forget how precious she is."

Klavier paused as he remembered the morning's antics and her behaviour. He smiled indulgently. "I never forget, Simon. The fact is only... _overshadowed_ by her stubborn streak, sometimes."

Simon laughed. "Playing hard to get, is she?"

Klavier cocked his head. "Something like that. I know how she feels. She knows of my feelings for her and still she denies me. I do not know why."

"Gale was the same. It wasn't until another cat's claws were in me that hers grew — and grew fast."

A light frown formed between Klavier's eyes. "Are you saying I should date somebody else?"

"Hell no," Simon said but his eyes were twinkling mischievously — something Klavier hadn't seen until now. "All I'm saying is, if she won't let you near her... then bring her closer to you."

Klavier contemplated that and after a few seconds, he laughed heartily as something occurred to him. "The kiss from the woman that made Gale angry was not at all unexpected was it?"

Simon grinned. "It was to Gale."

* * *

Klavier went in search of the warden and found him sitting in his office, pouring over some documents and drinking from a bottle of water. When he knocked on the door, the man looked up at him.

"I wish to speak with Kade Richards," Klavier said. "Is he on this floor?"

"He's not on any floor that you can reach, Prosecutor," the warden replied. "Kade Richards died last night."

"_What?_"

"He was found in his cell this morning," the warden explained.

"How the hell did he die?" Klavier demanded although he suspected he already knew the answer to that.

"Killed himself. Potassium Cyanide."

"How did he manage to manage to get it?" Klavier asked.

"I don't know," the warden shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "He's not the first. Some get sick of staring at four walls and manage to kill themselves one way or another."

_Killed himself, my foot,_ Klavier thought angrily, realising his complacence had just cost him a potentially valuable lead. Red mist descended, clouding his vision as his entire body tensed with rage. He turned away without a word and walked back the way he'd come. He didn't care about Richards losing his life — from what he'd just heard, the man deserved nothing more. But he knew exactly who was to blame and _that_ knowledge infuriated him more than anything else.

_Rafael, you bastard. If you think this will stop me from getting you hanged, think again._


	8. Sealed With Seven Seals

Sealed With Seven Seals

Deston locked his office door shut behind him and turned to Ema (whose teeth were about to fall off due to the pressure with which she was munching her Snackoos). He smiled at her and gestured ahead.

"Ladies first," he said.

"Cut the crap," Ema snapped. "I don't even know where to go."

Deston pursed his lips together and she was pretty certain it was to disguise the amusement rather than out of annoyance. Nevertheless, she allowed him to lead her through the department dotted with cubicles and busy people. She glanced about her once and saw that everyone was either on the phone, tapping away at a computer or scurrying about with a bunch of papers in one hand and, in one case, all three. She regarded the woman that ran past her, barking orders into the phone trapped between her ear and shoulder, a thick wad of paper under one arm and both her hands working furiously at the netbook she was holding.

"Does she really need to act like a human computer?" Ema asked grumpily.

Deston chuckled. "It's always really heated around here, Em. You gotta keep up or you're going to miss something and if you do that..." he made a slicing motion with his hand at his neck.

"Huh." She turned away and stuck her nose in the air, refusing to focus on everyone around her. Part of the reason was that her esteem had just taken a hit – no matter how hard she tried, she ended up missing stuff in the investigations she was assigned. She wouldn't last a day... assuming she even managed to get a job here in the first place.

"You okay?" Deston asked and she nodded.

But she was lying.

Ema tried to shake off the nasty feeling that had been slowly trying to take over her. She refused to give in to it. She hated getting all down – scientific research clearly showed the effects depression (she cringed at the word) could have on one's performance in all areas of life. She was already failing as it was – she didn't need further pessimism to get her down.

Then again, so much of her effort went into keeping her emotions in check that she wondered if she wasn't giving in already. Maybe if she didn't need to spend all that time trying to push it all away, she wouldn't screw up the way she did. Perhaps, she would have passed her Forensics exam if she hadn't spent so much time dwelling on –

_Stop it! You're doing it again. When will you let go? It's been nine damn years. It's over. Everything's okay now. Just let it go._

It's that glimmerous fop's fault. He's –

_Get a grip on yourself, Skye. He didn't mean it that way!_

The concept is the same. He manip –

"Mr Cavatin," a voice drawled and Ema found herself yanked out of her thoughts. She focused on the source of the sound and her eyes widened.

_Talk about eccentric. _

Ema's couldn't quite decide which caught her attention first – the unsettlingly handsome features of the man before her or the overwhelmingly decorated clothes he donned. She didn't even know what those things on his pants were! And the dragon that curled around the sleeve of his rather extravagant fur jacket made him look... exotic. Her eyes travelled up to his face rather swiftly and again, the thought that he was unnaturally good-looking crossed her mind and she almost blushed. What the hell was wrong with her? She shook herself mentally and focused on him again, noticing that the odd hair style reminded her of something. It made Lang look feral although she couldn't say it was a bad thing. In fact, it was almost attractive.

_WHAT! Have you lost your mind Skye?_

It's the blood loss from this morning. It's addled my brain.

"Agent Lang," Deston said and Ema was so surprised to hear the curt tone of his voice that she looked at him, her odd thoughts disappearing. His usually easy pose was replaced by stiffness and she thought she saw the ghost of a scowl on his face as he stared at Lang. She looked back at the man who was eliciting such a reaction from her friend; a cocky grin was aimed at Deston and Ema found herself recoiling from the sheer aura of his presence. The intensity that he radiated made her want to put several feet of distance between herself and Lang.

"How's that investigation of yours going, kid?"

Ema's eyes widened at the blatant condescendence of Lang's tone.

"Great," Deston said dryly.

"So you've caught them?" Lang asked and she frowned at the obvious mirth in the way he asked that question.

"Working on it," Deston replied shortly.

"Is that right," he said with a knowing grin. Then it was gone and his hands came up to meet as a deep, respectful look came over his features. Ema watched in bewilderment as his eyes closed and his voice dropped to a low tone. "Lang Zi says: a pack is only as fast as its leader."

Ema felt Deston's pose grow, if possible, even stiffer than before. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

The grin reappeared almost as quickly as his eyes shot open – he was staring at Deston with all of the cockiness he could muster and usually, Ema would have said something but she felt so incredibly intimidated by him that she decided on keeping quiet.

"I think we both know what it means, Mr Cavatin," he smirked. "Stamina's admirable but what's a wolf without speed?"

_That's what he reminds me of! _Ema thought suddenly. _A wolf!_

Just then, Deston's scowl came into view and Ema was distracted by it – she'd never seen such an expression on his face before and she could see that he was about to snap. Whoever Lang was, he had the uncanny ability to get under Deston's skin and she didn't want her friend saying something he might regret later so she turned her eyes on the wolf-boy and finally found the courage to speak;

"Actually," she interrupted coolly. "It's a scientific fact that some wolves favour stamina over speed and that makes them more effective hunters. The gray wolf, for instance."

Lang's eyes slid to her and he erupted into a loud laugh, his narrow shoulders shaking. She glanced at Deston who was watching the other man with deep dislike and then she turned back to Lang who'd stopped laughing and was staring at her. Ema supressed the shiver she felt at the predatory gleam in his narrowed eyes which ran down her frame swiftly, as if appraising her, and Ema felt the urge to hide behind Deston.

"Who's the sis?" he said, never looking away from her.

"This is Detective Skye," Deston said curtly and Ema almost jumped when his fingers wrapped around her forearm. "And speaking of speed, we've got to get going. See you around, Lang."

Without waiting for a reply, Deston led her away as swiftly as he could. Ema glanced over shoulder and saw Lang posing cockily, staring after them with a satisfied grin. She turned back to Deston.

"Who was that?"

"That's the best agent Interpol has," Deston replied through clenched teeth. "He's got the highest success rate for criminal arrests."

"Why don't you like him?" Ema asked.

"Because he's got the ego the size of the solar system," Deston growled and Ema felt the amusement rise. "If I ever become president, the first thing I'm going to do is ban him from ever setting foot in this country again."

Ema couldn't help the giggle that escaped her and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Deston glanced down at her and she bit her lip but then, surprisingly, he smiled and let go of her. She laughed again, more freely this time, and he winked at her.

"He didn't seem that arrogant to me," Ema said. "Just excessively cocky."

"I'll be sure to introduce you to him properly some time and perhaps, over a cup of coffee, you'll see that K has nothing on that guy."

"That's impossible," Ema said, the smile morphing into a scowl. Why did Deston have to bring that idiot up? "Nobody can out-do the glimmerous fop."

"Believe me, Em," Deston said with a roll of his eyes. "This guy can."

* * *

"Where the hell are we going now?" Ema said moodily. The mention of Klavier earlier had put her back in a nasty mood and she wanted to hit something. Hard.

Deston glanced at her from his place in the driver's seat. "Your sister is about ready to take my head off for not telling her where you're living," he said with amusement. "So I'm taking you to meet her. She's at the Wright office."

_Dammit_. She'd almost forgotten about Lana and how worried she must be. Somehow, this angered her more and she turned to Deston furiously.

"Why didn't you tell her where I live?" she demanded angrily and her hand inched towards the packet. _I'm going to Snackoo him until – _

"Hey, whoa!" Deston exclaimed, noticing the direction her hand was headed. "I need to keep your destination a secret and the more people that know, the more likely it is some creep is going to find his way there. Aside from the fact that I don't want to risk your life or K's, I really don't want my house to be blown to bits! I quite like the place."

Ema pouted and, unable to snap at him for such a reasonable explanation, she resumed her furious munching.

"You still haven't told me how you and K managed to hurt yourself on the same hand," Deston said. "Or why you were both bickering like kids."

"I wasn't bickering like a kid!" Ema shouted, frustrated that Deston was talking about Klavier again. Couldn't she get through the day without hearing the twit's name? "He's a glimmerous fop who's been driving me mad!" To her horror, tears had formed in her eyes and Ema slammed her packet of Snackoos on the dashboard and turned to look out of the window, blinking furiously.

Truth be told, she'd been rather hurt by Klavier's behaviour in the office – particularly when he'd snapped at her. She wasn't used to it and she didn't take it well but mostly, it was the stress of knowing she would have to return to the house tonight and she didn't know what he would do this time. Desperation and dread rising at the thought of being caught in a pair of arms she couldn't resist, she turned to Deston.

"Why weren't you at the house last night?" she asked.

"I was in the office sorting out this mess with the apartment and then I went to my flat nearby. Why?"

"Are you going to come tonight?" Ema asked, the butterflies in her stomach going crazy. She hated this feeling and unfortunately for her, every time she thought about being in that house with Klavier, they started going haywire.

Deston glanced at her quizzically. "The place is really far away, Ema. It's a safe-house more than anything else. I have to – "

"Please, Deston," she pleaded. _I don't want to be alone with him again. _Deston frowned and then suddenly, his arms had spun around the wheel and Ema saw that he was moving the car out of the lane. Before she could ask what he was doing, he'd pulled over to the side and turned off the ignition. He turned to face her with a serious expression and she gulped.

"Ema," he said, looking in between her eyes. "What's going on?"

"What?" Ema said, alarmed. "Nothing! I just don't want to be stuck in that house on my own with just a glimmerous fop for company!"

"So why did it sound like he'd dragged a misbehaving child in for supervision?" Deston asked and Ema's felt her temper hit the roof again. She'd been the one to try and inject some sense into their situation and Deston was assuming _she'd _been the childish one? _Idiot! _At least she didn't slice her hand to try and get someone to –

He must have seen the change in her expression because he was shaking his head hastily. "I mean, something must have happened. Whatever it is, you can tell me. It won't go any further than me."

She clamped her mouth shut and tried to get her temper under control as the concern in his voice washed over her. Why was she taking it out on Deston when he'd done nothing wrong? It was the ridiculous, pompous, mental _Klavier Gavin _she should be snapping at. Why _hadn't _she just screamed at him? Ema wished that she'd thrown a lot more than just Snackoos in his face.

But then she hesitated and glanced at her hand. What would Deston say when he found out she'd upset Klavier so much that he'd sliced his own hand? He would be disappointed, maybe even get angry. After all the warnings Phoenix and Deston had given her, she'd pushed Klavier emotionally with the result that he was walking around with a thick bandage on his hand – again.

She shook her head but it was more to answer her question than directed at Deston. No she couldn't tell him. She wouldn't. "Nothing happened," Ema said avoiding his gaze. "I just don't want to be alone with him."

"Nice try, Ema," Deston said. "I'm not an idiot. Something did happen and there's no way that you both hurt yourselves on the same hand peeling a bunch of damn apples. C'mon," he smiled at her. "You'll feel better."

"You'll hate me," she mumbled and then bit her lip angrily when she realised what she'd just said. Now he would _know _something was wrong. She closed her eyes against the inadequacy that fell over her and she looked out of the window, wishing Deston would stop asking her questions, wishing that the awful feeling spreading to her chest would just go away.

"Ema Skye." Deston lifted her face so that he could look in her eyes. "Who could ever hate you?"

His words should have comforted her. They should have helped her to open up to him but instead, the feeling in her chest exploded, like a raging volcano and the lava was rushing through her, making her boil. In a flash, she'd thrown her door open and fled from the car, striding as far away from it as she could, her coat billowing around her furiously as if it, too, sought to demonstrate the extent of her anger.

She didn't know where she was going. All she knew was she was surrounded by emptiness disturbed only by the sound of the highway... and she wanted to get away from it all. So she continued on into the unknown because right now, that appealed more to her than anything else – she was sick of trying to be logical and see things as they were, sick of analysing everything before coming to a conclusion. She was damn sick of the emotions she kept supressed inside of her for fear of making a fool of herself and she was abso-fucking-lutely happy to run away from the persistent, childish _IDIOT _who insisted on making life more difficult for her.

"Ema!"

_No! I'm not listening! I've had it with listening to everyone, taking orders, watching people do whatever they want and standing by and seeing them do stupid things!_

"_Ema!" _Deston's voice was closer and she knew he wasn't too far behind her. For a split second she thought about kicking off her shoes and just running and running... but then, like clockwork, her _damn logic _was back, asking her where she was going to run.

And this pushed her temper over the edge.

She spun on Deston in a whirlwind of fury, her voice erupting from her throat in a sound she didn't recognise.

"_What the hell do you want?" _she screamed at him as he skidded to a halt a few feet away from her. She could see the concern etched in the lines of his handsome face but she didn't care – her rage was sweeping through her, making her heart beat faster. Her legs were shaking, her body was heating and she was losing control of her in a way she didn't understand. All she knew was that the shadow that had been hovering over her all morning had now sunk its claws into her and she wanted to lash out at something, _someone_... "_Havent you done enough?_"

"Ema?" His tone said he didn't understand her question and Ema's eyes flashed.

"You think nobody can hate me?" Ema demanded, advancing on him. "Well, let's see if we can change your mind, shall we?" In all of the fierce gesturing, her bag slid from her shoulder and she flung it aside angrily, her narrowed eyes fixed on his shocked face. "I think you and your stupid little band _stinks_! I think you're a heartless _bastard_! You _used me_ to make your friend feel better! If it hadn't been for your _mind games _– " she lashed out suddenly and pushed him, hard, causing him to take a step back, " – I wouldn't have had to run around trying to figure you out! If you hadn't _pretended_ to be interested in me, I wouldn't have had to deal with the pathetic attention I got from the media! You _bastard!_" She pushed him again, harder this time, and with both hands and ignored the intense pain that shocked through her palm. "_Did you ever think about what it all would do to me before you went off and hatched this great plan!"_

Deston was rooted to the spot, his expression inscrutable and she wondered if she'd offended him or hurt him. Instead of feeling guilty however, Ema only got more angry. _Good. What goes around comes back around. How __**dare **__he stand there and have the cheek to be __**hurt**__ after everything he'd done to her? _

"And _then_, when you finally 'fess up to what you're doing, when you _finally _decide to be honest and end this stupid charade your damn friend jumps in to make my life difficult! _The spoilt brat!" _Suddenly, it was as though it was Klavier standing before her again and she wanted nothing more than to slap him so hard that her wrist broke. Such fury passed through her that Ema felt as though she would explode if she didn't do something so she found herself pushing Deston once again, his lack of response only spurring her on. "He acts like the world is his! Who the hell does he think he is? I'm not some stupid piece of meat he can lay claim on! I'm not a flipping toy to be passed around for your amusement! _I'm not a tool! What the hell is wrong with you men!_"

"Ema," Deston started and she was infuriated to hear the calm concern that wrapped around her name. It was as though her body was no longer under her control; now she pushed him with all of the strength she had and felt a twinge of satisfaction when she saw the way he stumbled, looking deeply confused. If he wasn't going to shout back then she would take all the pleasure she could in hurting him.

"_Shut up_!" she yelled. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say! You're all the same – you go after the things you don't have just to prove to yourself and the world how powerful you are! _How are you different from any of the criminals you go after, huh?_" She glared at Deston and waited for a reply but he stood still and silent, staring at her. "_Answer me dammit!_ Who gave you the right to play with my life? Who gave you the right to touch me? Who gave you the right to make me cry? _Who gave you permission to go after whatever you want?"_

"Nobody."

"The Gavinners!" she scoffed, and she injected as much derision in her voice as she could. "HA! Just because half the world is too _damn_ _blind _to see past your _damn_ _glimmerous exterior_ doesn't make you royalty! You're still bound by the basic principles of life and morality! You can't just mess around with people and then hide behind the shield of the law and say you did it for the 'greater good'! It's _bullshit_!"

She waited for a response from Deston but he only remained quiet as if he had nothing to say to her rant. Ema wanted to scream to fill the silence, she wanted him to say something back, to scream that she was a stuck up cow and then she could go on hating him and say everything else that she couldn't think of right now. She wanted to tell him that she hated people like him and Klavier and Daryan who manipulated a situation to their fucking advantage just to achieve their goal.

"_I hate people like you who mess around with people and then throw the ends-justify-the-means crap around!"_

And then it was someone else standing before her; a tall man with an overpowering aura and friendly eyes that were like the velvet of deceit, stretched over the cold steel of a calculating nature. Ema was frozen for a moment, shocked by the apparition as it looked down upon her intimidatingly.

_No!_

"You ruined my life, Gant!" she cried out, flying at him, the barrage of emotions that had been growing in her for so long spilling out of her violently. She pounded his chest with everything she had, trying to wrench some satisfaction from the sound of her fists making impact with his torso. "You ruined my sister's life!" And still all he did was stare at her with those cold eyes of his, composed and unmoved by her assault. "_I hate you!" _she screamed.

Suddenly, fingers curled around her wrists, stopping her attack and a voice spoke over hers, calling her name. She looked to the sound, confused by its warmth and then the orange of his chest faded until it was a bright yellow. The face that she looked into was narrowing into a younger, more defined one and gray eyes were boring into hers.

"Ema," Deston repeated, pulling her against him. Ema blinked furiously as she tried to understand what was going on; It was as though her mind had exploded and this was the aftermath... the simmering heat that succeeded an inferno. It was so sudden that she felt dazed and the memory of her rage was diminishing into a hazy madness that she couldn't comprehend.

"Breathe," he commanded her, sternly but his tone wasn't unkind.

She wanted him to shout at her, to turn around and walk away and leave her stranded out here... She wanted him to prove her right because she didn't want to feel the guilt that was creeping into her through the layers of her tingling skin. But at his words, the anger left her instantly leaving behind nothing but an interminable exhaustion. She felt as though she'd run a mile chasing down a criminal she couldn't catch and her failure had hit her again. Her shoulders slumped and her head lowered until she was looking at the yellow leather jacket resting unzipped against his chest.

Why was he wearing leather today? He always seemed to be wearing satin or silk or whatever it was. Then, as if hearing her own thoughts, she smiled in spite of herself. From a raging lunatic to a material critic... how her mind hopped about. Ema wondered, at times like these, how her brain worked; from what she'd experienced, it was as though it focused on the idiotically mundane so that she wouldn't have to deal with the real problems.

She felt his grip on her loosen and he lowered her arms slowly; she was aware of his gaze on her but Ema couldn't bring herself to look up at him. Something akin to shame was making its way along the channels of her body that anger had just deserted and she turned away. How could she, after everything she had just said, look up at him and take it all back? It was tantamount to an apology – a forgiveness she didn't deserve.

And how could she explain anything to him? How could she tell him how Gant's betrayal of the trust she and Lana had placed in him had left her with the inability to fully trust anyone? Ema couldn't tell him that Klavier's stunt had triggered a something in a sensitive part of her without making it sound like she was trying to justify her role in it. She couldn't tell him how Klavier's crafty move had shocked her so thoroughly and reminded her of another whose manipulations had resulted in the darkest time of her life.

She had spent the entire morning trying to push back the darkness that had started sweeping across the surface of her skin, making her feel sick. And the bandage on her hand didn't help because it was a reflection of what Klavier had done. She didn't think she could forget the devious move with which he'd managed to get her closer to him and she hated herself for the equally cunning way she had retaliated.

Ema hated manipulation above all and falling prey to its dark power did not help an already weathered esteem.

She knew why she'd done it – it had been to stop him from doing anything to himself again, to tell him without words that she wouldn't just stand by and watch. She'd done it out of love.

But did she want a love that was based on manipulation?

_Manipulation. Manipulation. Manipulation. It's all about manipulation._

"Ema?"

His hand rested on her shoulder and, against her will, her eyes moved up to meet his as he turned her around. When she saw the comforting regard there, she quickly looked away again but with gentle fingers, Deston turned her back to look at him. He was smiling at her.

"Boy," he whistled. "I thought I'd experienced the extent of your temper but I can see that Snackoo attacks are just the appetiser... If you'll pardon the pun."

"Snackoos are, by definition, snacks. So no pun to pardon," Ema muttered and Deston started laughing. Suddenly, he pulled her into a gentle hug and Ema didn't resist. She needed this, needed the comfort of friendly arms and the reassurance that he didn't, in fact, hate her, to wash away the weakness that had grabbed hold of her. Slowly, her body began to shake and she fought the painful constriction in her throat.

"Oh, Ema," Deston sighed. "I'm so sorry. You're right, I was thoughtless."

Ema shook her head. She wanted to speak up and tell him she didn't mean it but she didn't know how to talk without breaking down, without losing herself in the tears that were fighting to be let out.

Deston pulled back a little to look into her face. "You had every right to say what you did. It was wrong of me to do what I did the way I did it and I'm sorry. I didn't realise. I'm so sorry, babe."

Ema didn't know what to say. The shame and regret she was feeling was intensifying. She had said so much to him, most of it nothing to do with him and he was _apologising_ to her. What could she say to that?

"Now," Deston said with a tilt of his head. "Do you want to tell me what K's done?" Ema stiffered at the name and it didn't go unnoticed by Deston who frowned lightly. "Ema?"

She pulled away and turned to find her bag, picking it up and slipping the strap onto her shoulder. She took a deep breath and turned back around to look at Deston who'd crossed his arms and didn't look as though he was ready to move any time soon.

_Oh boy._

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't say nothing. We're not going anywhere until you tell me what K's done."

"It's just a little argument we had this morning. He insisted I have apples because they're good for me," she said, lying wildly. "I wouldn't have any. He tried to feed me some and I jumped away and in the confusion, I sliced my hand and when he tried to pull the knife away, he sliced his. It was just a silly argument that got out of hand."

"I see," Deston said, nodding slowly and looking at the ground briefly. He cleared his throat. "I've got some advice for you."

"Er..." Ema wondered if he was about to advise her on how to escape Klavier's force-feeding and she almost smiled at the thought.

Almost.

"Don't ever commit murder," Deston said with a serious face.

Ema blinked at him for several seconds in surprise. Um... _what? _Then, uncharacteristically, she laughed. Even amongst the strange conversation Ema felt the darkness being pushed back into that locked place that she rarely visited. "Er, thanks. I think, being a detective and all, I would – "

"I advise you against it," Deston said cutting across her and Ema was irritated. She hated being interrupted and he seemed to do it more than everyone else. "Because you're absolutetly absymal at lying."

"...What?" Ema's heart sank and the darkness, sensing her weakness, pushed back against the defences she was raising. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly.

"That, my sweet detective, was the worst lie I've ever had the pleasure of suffering," Deston said with an amused glint in his eyes. "And that's saying something... considering my profession."

Ema gulped. _Keep it together, Skye. _"I don't know what you're talking about," she said. "Come on, we don't have all day. I want to see Lana and I have a ton of paperwork I need to get back to at the office. Some idiot decided to play Sherlock Holmes and ran off on some – " While she was talking, she made to walk past him but he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"I believe K said something that implied you _had _actually eaten an apple this morning," Deston said and Ema was annoyed (not to mention apprehensive) at the professional tone of his voice. She suddenly felt as though she'd been transported back to an interrogation room.

_Urgh. _

"Not to mention," Deston continued, "you were being quite vocal about how _my friend_ has _jumped in _to _make life difficult _for you." He ran a finger along his jaw as if thinking of something. "And then you mentioned something about me touching you?" He cocked his head. "I can't help but think you didn't really mean _me_."

"Really now," Ema mumbled, trying to remain cool although she felt sick with embarrassment. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, for starters, you just let me hug you again," Deston said with a smile and Ema flushed. "Second, you started calling me Gant at one point which makes me think you weren't really just going off at me."

_Damn it all to hell, Ema! _She kicked herself mentally. _Why did you choose an FBI agent to lose your temper with?_

"What's going on, Ema?" Deston asked again. "Who's Gant?"

There it was again – that dark memory flowing subtly across her skin as if it was looking for a way inside. And when it did, she felt the cold take over her insides, freezing all but the sense of dread and pessimism that she always felt at the name.

"Someone I used to know," Ema said quietly. Deston was peering into her face, trying to gauge her expression. She waited for the onslaught of questions and she was ready with her response – she would tell him nothing. No matter how much he pushed or how much he cared, Ema wouldn't talk about it because she refused to let the past merge with the present. She couldn't think about it. She wouldn't.

"Okay," Deston said and Ema looked at him in surprised. "I can see that you don't want to discuss it but Ema..." He took her by the arms and looked her in the eyes. "If you ever need to talk just tell me, okay? Telling me something is like throwing it into the ocean."

Ema nodded and she felt the wetness on her eyes. She wiped it away with her fingers and smiled at him. "Thank you," she said. "I appreciate that. And thank you for not... being mad at me. For blowing my stack."

Deston smiled. "And whatever the reason, if you want me to come to the house tonight, I will."

Ema was tempted to accept – everything in her was screaming at her to say _YES! Tell him to come! _But something was holding her back on the very edge, something that seemed to torture her internally with sadistic pleasure. She didn't want to be in the house with Klavier on her own but she couldn't act like a child and have someone else shield her... again. Lana had done that once and what had happened then? And Deston and Klavier were friends and Klavier thought that Deston and she had been...

No, she couldn't let that happen.

So, with all of her maturity spurring her on (_no wonder people prefer to be immature, _she thought _– maturity sucks)_, she took a deep breath and shook her head. "I'll be alright, Des. I think I'm just frustrated and I'm still in a bit of pain," Ema said. "Well, not pain," she added hastily seeing the look on his face, "I'm just sore."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Ema nodded. "Come on, let's go see my sis... And then we have to get cracking on this case."

If she thought she was going to distract Deston from his staring, she'd been wrong. It was almost as if he hadn't heard her, the way he was still starng into her face but then he sighed defeatedly and stepped aside, gesturing towards his car. Ema sighed with relief.

"After you, Detective Skye." She smiled secretively as he followed her until he spoke again. "And we're going to have limits on how involved you get with the case."

"We'll see about that," she shot back.

Deston was chuckling all the way to the Wright office and the sound of it brought a reluctant smile to Ema's face. She glanced at him, as he started the car again, and made a mental note to show her appreciation of him later. She didn't deserve how understanding he was – especially after everything she'd said to him – and she needed to show him that everything he did, didn't go unnoticed.

Her thoughts turned to another Gavinner whose own thoughtfulness was at stark contrast with what he'd done this morning. Ema knew he'd probably meant no harm to her by it but the fact that she knew why he'd done it only made her uneasy. Not only because it showed how determined he was to win but also because she realised that he was willing to play mind games with her.

That didn't help his cause... nor her trust in him.

_Let him try, _Ema thought, her eyes flashing dangerously. _I'll meet fire with fire._

And yet... she couldn't help but think about how gently he'd held her. She could still hear the soft vibrations of his voice, wreaking havoc on her senses. How could she really not trust a man who'd been so loving in his touch...?

_Loving? Get a grip on yourself!_

How long could she keep this up? How had she been stupid enough to fall for a man like Klavier Gavin? And how could she have done it at a time like this when keeping her distance was the only option? She had seen the anger in his eyes. He didn't understand that it was hard for her to push him away; it had been almost as if she had ripped away a chunk of her heart and she was still bleeding.

And that scared her. It scared her that he had so much power over her emotions.

From the moment Ema had become of men, she had never fallen for anyone. Sure she'd had her crushes but she'd never been upset if they didn't work out. She dealt with the disappointment, moved on with a shrug of her shoulders and threw herself into her passion – science. She'd always managed to keep a level head; she'd always been the one watching her friends fall in and out of love, watching them get their hearts broken and heal. She had always prided herself on her ability to remain detached from such risks.

So how had she managed to fall for the one man she could _not _touch? He irritated her but she loved to hate it – if anybody else flirted with her the way he had, she would have done more than just throw a couple of dough snacks at him. But when he flirted, it was different; her subconscious whispered _you irritate me but it's okay because it's you. _When he smirked at her, although her mouth scowled, her heart soared because it was directed her way. When he followed her, she didn't try as hard as she could have to make him go away because he was Klavier Gavin.

And he commanded a part of her that had only just awoken.

Every fibre in her body responded to him. Every nerve in her body hummed in his presence. Her thoughts buzzed, blocking out all of her logical voices. Her heart beat faster than it ever had. Her eyes were drawn to every part of him and her mouth felt incomplete, calling for his. When she touched him, it was as though she had been charged with something beyond her understanding. Her soul was lifted to heaven and she thought she could die looking in the endless depths of his soulful eyes. With every glance her way, he took her apart, stealing parts of her she didn't realise were there until she saw them being taken.

But she still couldn't forget this morning – it was like a dark cloud over her pure feelings. It made her unsure of him... and she hated it because she didn't understand any of it. Of _course _he was nothing like Gant. Klavier would never manipulate a crime scene and pin the crime on a child – he'd condemned his best friend for doing the very same thing.

So what was it that was making her feel this way?

_You're going to have to ignore all of this until the danger has passed. Even if you manage to work through the mess in your head, you still can't be with him._

The imperceptible nod to her inner monologue caught her companion's attention; she was unaware of Deston watching the emotions play across her face and the tense posture of her body. He had no idea what was going on in her head and he didn't know what his friend had done to illicit such a violent outburst from her. Ema might be a moody woman but Deston knew it wasn't in her nature to lose her temper the way she had and it concerned him. He wasn't going to let it pass – he was going to do something about it because he was pretty sure that both she and Klavier had hurt themselves on purpose.

And he didn't want to see another bandage wrapped around their hands again.

* * *

Lana and Miles were both waiting for her with identical anxious expressions and when she walked through the door, Lana was touching her, looking for injuries and asking her question upon question. Miles smiled at her over his fiancée's head and Ema smiled back, greeting him. Behind them, Phoenix was waiting with a smile. When Ema finally pried herself free from Lana's arms, Phoenix approached her and wrapped an arm around her in a semi-hug. She smiled at him, pleasantly surprised.

"I'm glad you're all right, Ema," he said quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "For all our sakes. Your sister is scary."

Ema laughed and allowed Lana to usher her into sitting down in one of the sofas. They all surrounded her and she looked across at Deston who smiled at her comfortingly. She glanced around at everyone and once again, she felt their presence give her strength and not for the first time, she felt lucky to have so many people care about her. Ema could feel optimisit seeping into her again, could feel the motivation wrapping itself around her like a shield.

She remained quiet as Deston explained his theory and his investigation with minimum details to an attentive Lana and a curious Edgeworth. Her sister was horrified that Ema was caught up in a situation like this and she saw the rollocking coming a mile away. Lana glared at Deston but before she could start to lecture him on putting her sister at risk, Ema intervened.

"Lana, Deston saved my life," she said. "Don't shout at him."

Lana pursed her lips and Deston smiled at Ema gratefully. She winked at him and suddenly she was laughing at the hilarity of the situation. She was amused (and somewhat proud) that her sister could put the fear of God in an FBI agent. Everyone turned to look at her and before she knew it, they'd joined in the laughter. Even Edgeworth was chuckling, shaking his head and Lana was laughing along reluctantly.

"I'm sorry, Deston," she said after a moment. "I'm overprotective of Ema."

"Don't mention it," Deston said waving a hand. "I have a sister _older _than me and she always groans when she knows I'm visiting because I give her boyfriends the death glare."

Everyone cracked up again when Deston gave a demonstration and Ema was intrigued, realising how little she knew about him.

"Wright was telling us about his investigation into the State vs Enigmar case," Edgeworth said and they all quietened, focusing on him. "He said you were helping him, Mr Cavatin?"

"Yeah," Deston said, running a hand through his chaotic hair. "I'm doing all I can."

"I don't suppose Klavier knows any of this?" Lana asked.

"No," Phoenix said and he looked sad. "I don't think anything would convince Klavier his brother was involved with the forgery unless there was real irrefutable evidence."

"Something you always seemed to lack, Wright," Edgeworth smirked and Phoenix laughed.

"In any case, I've gathered a bit of data," Phoenix said. "But I need to talk to Valant Gramarye. I keep getting the nagging feeling that he holds the key to unlocking a big part of the case."

"Valant?" Ema said surprised. "What do you mean?"

"He was the witness for Zak's trial," Phoenix explained. "But during his testimony, I found too many contradictions that were overlooked later because of the forged page I presented. I haven't forgotten though," Phoenix lowered his head and his eyes disappeared beneath his hat leaving behind the trace of a smile. "I know there's more to him than he's letting on."

"Do you think he's the killer?" Ema asked curiously.

"It's crossed my mind," Phoenix said. "He certainly seems suspicious. But every time I try to get a hold of him, he seems to never be available." He glanced at Edgeworth. "I'd say he's avoiding me."

"I hear Valant has come upon hard times," Edgeworth said. "The rights to the magic were not passed on to him so he is unable to perform Magnifi's magic on stage without legal repercussions."

"True," Phoenix agreed. "But he'll be inheriting them soon enough. Seven years are almost up."

"What do you mean?" Ema asked.

"Performance rights, Ema," Lana said and Ema nodded understanding what she meant. "But after a seven year absence, the rights pass on to the next in line. That's Valant."

"Oh..." Ema nodded slowly. "Seven years huh?"

"A most fitting number," Edgeworth said and they all looked at him curiously. "In some belief systems, the number 7 symbolises law, order, wisdom," he smirked at Phoenix who grinned back at him. "As well as progress, achievement and to name a few. I think we can consider it a positive sign with the Jurist system coming up. Maybe it means you'll actually succeed, Wright."

"Heh," Phoenix surveyed his friend cheekily. "I had no idea you believed in the supernatural now, Edgeworth. You have changed."

Edgeworth recoiled in horror as everyone started to laugh. "I do not believe in hocus pocus! I was merely making an observation!"

"Ah, but it's true," Phoenix said. "Maya made a very interesting comment the other day. She pointed out that the case centres around seven people – Magnifi, Valant, Zak, Thalassa, Kristoph, Klavier and myself."

"How _is _Maya?" Lana asked. "I didn't get the chance to speak to her at the party too much."

"She's busy," Phoenix said solemnly. "She's going through re-runs of the Steel Samurai."

Everyone laughed again and Ema tilted her head to the side, remembering the woman she'd seen briefly at the engagement party. She'd heard of her of course but thus far, she'd not had much of an opportunity to speak to her.

"And Diego?"

Phoenix sighed. "He has his days. He can become very ill... But Maya knows how to take care of him and, of course, Pearls is always there to help."

"Come to think of it, I didn't see Pearl at the party," Edgeworth said.

"She had to supervise the acolytes so she offered to stay behind. Plus, I think she was hoping the time alone would mean me and Maya would finally discover the love hidden deep in our hearts."

"She's still at it?" Lana asked in between giggles.

"Yep," Phoenix said with a chuckle. "She's unstoppable."

Suddenly, Deston's phone went off and he answered it quickly, excusing himself. There was a silence in the room before Ema turned to her sister. "Have you guys set a date for the wedding?"

Lana glanced at Edgeworth who smiled and Ema nearly melted at the sight of Lana smiling back at him.

_They look so sweet_, she thought and then, uncharacteristically, she felt a yearning for the same thing.

"We're going to have a small wedding," Lana said and Ema focused on her, grateful for the interruption. "Just friends and family. So it'll be in about 6 months."

Ema's eyes widened. "Wow. That's pretty soon." She smiled at Lana wickedly, a cheeky thought taking form on her lips. "Eager, eh sis?"

"Ema!" Lana chided, blushing.

Phoenix laughed. Just as Ema was about to continue teasing her sister, Deston returned with a grim look on his face and Phoenix turned to look at him.

"Is everything all right, Deston?"

"They searched all of the surrounding buildings but they can't find anything," Deston said, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. "There's not a single freaking clue!"

"How can that be possible?" Ema demanded. "Nobody's perfect! There will always be a stray hair or thread or – or _something _that can – "

But Deston was shaking his head. "Ema, we have the best forensics teams on the job whenever something involving these guys happens but it's always nothing. I'm getting nowhere fast!"

"Why don't you make a deal with a member of a rival crime ring?" Lana suggested. "Some of them are usually happy to give away information."

Deston shook his head again. "This crime ring is too big to have rivals. It's bigger and badder than the Cadaverinis."

Someone whistled and everyone was talking again.

"Mr Cavatin," Edgeworth said. "Might I offer a suggestion?"

"Anything that will help me catch them is welcome, Mr Edgeworth," Deston said.

"I worked on a similar case a few years ago. That's to say, I was investigating a crime ring. During the investigation, I met an Interpol agent who – "

Deston snorted. "Lang?" Edgeworth nodded. "Yeah... I think I'd probably murder the dude before we even exchanged notes. I saw him in the the office and I barely managed to get away without a criminal record."

Ema remembered the agent they'd come across in the office and she frowned, thinking that maybe Deston was exaggerating a little. Sure, Lang was a little cocky but he didn't seem that bad.

"Well," Edgeworth smiled. "It is true that Lang is someone you have to get used to but I wouldn't really say it's an ego problem. He's a little too... " he paused as if looking for the right word.

"In your face," Deston said and Edgeworth smiled, nodding.

"Yes, he does come on a bit strong," Edgeworth said.

"Just a bit," Deston said with a roll of his eyes.

Ema remembered the overpowering aura that had made her want to run and she silently agreed.

"You have to bite the bullet sometimes," Lana said. "He might be able to get you the information that you require, working for Interpol as he is. Perhaps he can provide you with access to cases in other countries that you can't get hold of because of the restrictions you're subjected to; credit searches, health data..."

It was as though someone had whacked Ema over the head with a sledgehammer – but instead of knocking her out, her mind was suddenly whirring faster than it had in a long time. Something was irritatingly tugging at some part of her brain, nudging her like a word on the tip of a tongue and then, quite suddenly, it hit her. Ema's excitement was so great that she couldn't speak for a moment and then –

"HOLD IT!"

All eyes on the room turned to her in surprise. She glanced at Phoenix and blushed a little at the amused way he was looking at her.

"Wright," Edgeworth said after a moment's silence. "You're a bad influence on Ema."

Everyone erupted into laughter and Ema joined in, feeling embarrassed but still enjoying herself.

"I'm honoured, Ema," Phoenix said in between chuckles. "So, what's the hold up?"

Another titter passed around the room but this time, Ema's mind was fixed on her idea again. She was glancing back and forth between Deston and Phoenix. "That case Apollo worked on with the Kitaki family – what was the doctor's name?"

"Pal Meraktis?" Phoenix offered.

"Yeah! Didn't that guy run a medical centre primarily to treat criminals?" she asked Phoenix whose eyes had lit up.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Deston interrupted, looking between them. "Who's Pal Meraktis?"

"Not too long ago, there was a case in which a doctor was murdered," Ema explained impatiently. "In the investigation, we found out that his primary patients were members of crime rings who couldn't go to normal hospitals for gunshot or stab wounds and things like that – so they would go to Pal Meraktis and he treated them, no questions asked. So maybe he was – "

" – treating the ones we're after!" Deston finished and she could see the excitement rising in his eyes.

"But how will you find out if Meraktis was treating them if you have no name for the organisation?" Edgeworth asked.

"We've manage to apprehend seven prisoners over the past few years and their reports mentioned scars – from gunshots, stabs and other things which had been treated professionally," Deston explained and Ema was tickled by the expression of utter delight on his face. "We asked around but there were no medical records of any of them on the medical mainframe. What do you bet they were going to this guy?"

"And if they _were _going to him..." Phoenix started.

"...then it could be a very promising lead," Edgeworth finished, nodding as a thoughtful expression deepened in his features.

"Yes!" Ema and Deston exclaimed together and then they laughed again. Deston approached her and wrapped an arm around her, hugging her lightly. Ema couldn't help but notice, in a vague part of her brain, that all of her negativity seemed to have diminished.

"It was damn clever of me to hire you as my partner," he said mischievously.

Ema snorted. "So like a man to claim the credit for a woman's idea."

"That's men for you," Lana agreed. "Self-centred and completely unable to – " Miles cleared his throat and she looked at him guiltily as if she'd forgotten he was there. "Ah, er... well."

Ema giggled and then almost melted again when Miles smiled indulgently at Lana and placed an affectionate hand on her back. Lana smiled back at him and they seemed to forget that three pairs of eyes were watching – all three of which instantly looked away from them to give the couple the privacy they needed.

"That was a great idea, Ema," Phoenix praised her and she beamed happily. She felt a warmth flood through her, overcoming the iciness that had taken over and completely melting it. Praise from her sister, Miles or even Deston made her feel good about herself but coming from the man who'd saved her life... Ema had no words to describe it.

"Come on, Em," Deston said with a grin and she looked up into his eyes with a smile of her own. "Let's go catch some bad guys."


	9. Echo Of The Past

Echo Of The Past

'.'

Givers of birth, takers of life,

Two sons born to a loving wife.

A careless parent, a broken name;

Behold, now, this growing flame.

.'.

With a clang of the filing cabinet and the swish of a folder being extracted from its depths, Klavier threw the files down upon the table before him. He fell into his seat and opened the folder open with unnecessary force. He was still breathing heavily from his emotional rollercoaster but he wasn't stopping. He flicked through the layers and layers of sheets looking for the name that had consumed him ever since he'd heard it:

_Rainsford._

There it was... the photograph of that demon that had ruined so many lives and ended God only knew how many others. Klavier's jaw clenched at the sight of it and he wanted to tear it in two. Instead, he flung it aside and picked up the sheets of information he had on Rafael but it was nowhere near enough – the file was a compilation of Gale's life, not David's or Rafael's. He would have to conduct a separate investigation into the two**...**

"_Nein,_" he muttered to himself and a small satisfied smile wrapped around the word. He stood up swiftly and made his way to the Criminal Affairs, thankful for the merging of the two a few years ago. He might have exploded if he'd had to travel half an hour for this.

"Fräulein," he said to the first officer he came across upon reaching the department. He dimly registered that she was the one to have driven him to the hospital when he'd broken his fingers and he smiled, hoping to make up for his rudeness. She looked at him almost breathlessly and he suppressed the groan that rose in him; he wanted to walk away and find someone else to do the job but he wasn't going to waste time – there wasn't enough of it as it was already. "I need you to find an address for me."

* * *

It wasn't long before he was standing before a grand door. It surprised him somehow that Rafael's parents were so rich. Klavier didn't know why considering their eldest son owned a business of his own.

He shook his head and knocked on the door. He waited, with anticipation, for it to open. He didn't know how he felt towards the parents and he supposed he'd have to wait until he'd met them before making a judgement. It was just as this thought crossed his mind that the door opened slowly.

An elegant woman stood in the doorway, looking at him. She was of medium height with white hair tied back loosely. She was dressed simply but Klavier could see the money that adorned her.

She looked surprised to see him and he smiled at her briefly. Of course she recognised him. Klavier often forgot how recognisable his face was while he was carrying out an investigation.

"Fräulein Rainsford?" he enquired and she nodded, looking confused. "I am Klavier Gavin." He knew it was silly to tell her that – she already knew – but he didn't know what else to say.

"I know," she said quietly. "How can I help you?"

"I was wondering if I could have a word with you," he said. Klavier saw confusion in her eyes. "Please. It is important."

After a moment's hesitation, she stepped aside and Klavier stepped over the threshold. Instantly, he felt as though he'd stepped into a forbidden place – his mind was telling him to step back out or risk being tainted by something he didn't have the capacity to understand.

This was the home David and Rafael had been brought up in – this was the place that had housed them until they were old enough for one to break her heart and the other to take her life.

"This way, please," Mrs Rainsford said and he followed her, trying to keep his eyes fixed on her. He didn't want to look at his surroundings too closely because he knew he would start imagining the two brothers running around – his mind wasn't ready now, if it ever would be, to deal with that image. So he allowed her to lead him to a large room where she gestured for him to sit down. Klavier thanked her as he seated himself, watching her lower herself into a chair opposite him with all of the grace of a lady.

"I have no illusions, Mr Gavin," she said before he could speak. "I know why you're here."

"Oh?" Klavier wasn't surprised.

"You're here because of my son," she stated. Klavier couldn't help but feel disgusted that she could call Rafael that while looking him in the eye. Didn't she feel ashamed calling him that after what he'd done?

"Actually, Fräu Rainsford, I am here to ask after your younger son, David."

"David _is _my son, Mr Gavin," she interrupted and Klavier heard the clipped tone of her voice. "My _only _son."

"Ah," Klavier said, instantly feeling bad for jumping to conclusions about her. "I am sorry."

She stared at him with stern eyes and Klavier stared back, making it clear that while he remained quiet out of respect because she was a woman, he wasn't intimidated by her nor would he back down to any one of her glances. She smiled suddenly and some of the stiffness in her posture ebbed. Klavier wondered at the change – he would have expected disapproval at his boldness.

"Would you care for something to drink, Mr Gavin?"

Klavier's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wh – no, thank you."

"Are you certain?" she asked. "I think we've got a heavy conversation ahead of us."

Klavier surveyed her carefully. If he wasn't mistaken, it seemed almost as if she'd been waiting for somebody to come ask her the questions he was about to now. She continued to smile under scrutiny and Klavier finally felt a twinge of discomfort. There was something... _odd_ about her.

"Do you have some orange juice?" he asked and smiled inwardly at the detective it reminded him of. Drinking Ema's favourite drink made him feel that she was there with him... holding his bandaged hand.

Mrs Rainsford inclined her head and disappeared and returned, almost instantly, with two glasses one of which she offered him ("Thank you," he muttered) before settling with the other in her armchair. Klavier took a sip of the juice and as it flowed through him, he felt himself get stronger – and it had nothing to do with the vitamins.

"Fräulein Rainsford," Klavier started. "I have been investigating the – " he stopped himself, realising that to say 'the murder your son committed' might have been tactless, " – Gale Rainsford case. I wish to find David Rainsford. Would you happen to know where he is?"

She looked at him for several moments, the smile never faltering and when she spoke at last, Klavier's discomfort grew. "And why do you want to find my son?"

Klavier was taken aback by her question although he didn't quite understand why. It was natural for her to ask… but the tone of her voice was at complete odds with her expression. "I wish to talk to him of Gale's murder."

"Mr Gavin," she said and the smile vanished smoothly but quickly. She pierced him with her gaze. "David doesn't know what happened to his ex-girlfriend. I don't think he needs to know."

Klavier's insides grew cold. "With all due respect, Mrs Rainsford, David and Gale were an item for over half a decade. I do not – "

"And they separated," she interrupted. "My son left her and he must have had a very good reason to do so. I don't think you need to tell him that his brother killed his ex. It's quite unnecessary."

Klavier's eyes narrowed as his anger started to rise again as it always seemed to these days. He was beginning to notice several things – all of which indicated that Mrs Rainsford felt some sort of resentment towards Gale. He thought it unfair, among other things, as Gale was the one who'd been destroyed by both of her sons.

"Mrs Rainsford," he said. "I cannot help but sense an animosity towards Miss Rainsford."

"She is not a Rainsford," the elder woman said sharply. "Never was. She only stole the name."

Klavier's jaw clenched and he took a few deep breaths to remain calm, taking back his earlier guilt for his behaviour towards Mrs Rainsford. "Why do you – " And then he stopped himself because he knew that discussing Gale was straying from the subject. As much as he wanted to set Mrs Rainsford right, he realised that she knew the facts of the situation – she knew how much trouble both sons had caused and how much Rafael hated his own brother. If she still blamed Gale for the state of her family, nothing Klavier could say would change her mind. Klavier's dislike for the woman grew.

"I did not wish to find David to tell him of this news," Klavier lied and he took another sip of his juice hoping to buy time to think of a reason. She waited quietly and he looked at her, hoping to intimidate her in some way although it had become clear it wasn't an easy feat. "I wish to find him because Rafael wants to see him," he said on impulse and he frowned inwardly at the words. How was he going to explain that?

Mrs Rainsford's expression didn't let up. "Why would he want to see my son?"

Klavier took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer up to anyone who may be listening before he spoke again. "Rafael's execution date is approaching. I believe he wishes to make amends."

Every part of him screamed in protest at the blasphemous lie but he had no choice – he had to find David and he would use any means necessary to do so. Klavier was somewhat pleased when he saw a chink in her armour – her expression faltered and she looked momentarily confused.

"You're telling me..." she started slowly. "That the man who has spent years trying to kill my son now wants to apologise to him?"

Klavier barely blinked – his prosecuting skills kicked in and the words tumbled out of him smoothly. "I have been a prosecutor for 7 years now, Mrs Rainsford," he said. "I have dealt with many criminals and the one thing I can tell you is that an impending death changes many things in a person. I may not understand its nature but I cannot deny it because I have seen it so often." He took another sip of his drink and in the tiny moment where he blinked and the darkness veiled his eyes, he saw a flash of _her_ – the woman that had become his strength. He needed the strength because while it was true, he had seen many changes in men on death row, he knew Rafael was not one of them. He needed the strength to lie to a mother to save her son. "I need to take David to see his brother one last time."

He expected Mrs Rainsford to see through his lie but she simply stared at him, frozen as if carved out of ice. Then, slowly, she lowered her gaze to her folded hands in her lap. "I've waited for such news for so long," she whispered and Klavier's guilt grew. "I'd almost given up..." She looked up at him again and he saw her eyes, shrouded in pain. "You can't know, Mr Gavin, what it's like to be so wrong about your own sons."

Klavier tilted his head. "I do not understand."

"I always through Rafael was the sweetest son any mother could have," she said quietly and she looked away almost as if she was too ashamed to look at Klavier. "I never saw any wrong with him – he married early, he supported his father and I... he was hardworking and honest. In my eyes, at least."

Klavier listened quietly, fearful that any sound would snap the woman back to the present and she would remember that she was entertaining a complete stranger; he wanted all of the information he could get.

"And David was always so distant to all of us. He was hardworking too but he always had such a temper... such pride and arrogance. He was never really close to any of us..." She shook her head. "I always thought it was because he didn't care about us but it was only after his... after Rafael..."

Klavier frowned at her words, still unable to understand it all.

"My husband built the business from scratch and he didn't care about Rafael being the first born – he always said he would hand it to the son who proved himself worthy. Neither of us thought it would cause any problems among the brothers... And of course David always seemed so uncaring and dismissive of the whole thing that we assumed he didn't want it."

_The family business! _Klavier thought, shock ripping through him. _Rafael killed Gale in place of his brother for... money?_

"So because of David's aloofness, we left him alone and handed it over to Rafael. We let David do whatever he wanted to do, go wherever he wished go. He would be gone for years at a time and while I missed him, my husband always thought David was a waste of time and that we should simply... let it go."

Shock ripped through him again; Mr Rainsford was starting to sound somewhat familiar and the reminder was making Klavier sick. He swallowed and took another deep breath willing his increasingly painful memories away with the reassurance that he was probably just imagining it.

"It never occurred to us that... we never _dreamed _that Rafael was threatening David and driving him out of our home..."

Silence punctuated the room and Klavier 's fingers tightened around his glass as he tried to control himself; he was shaking and he was certain his face was reddening because he could feel the heat rising to his face.

"Did David tell you all of this?" he asked through clenched teeth.

She nodded, looking down at her hands. "Yes... I told him that his... that Rafael was in prison and I didn't believe he was the criminal at first. I thought it was a mistake and I asked David to help Rafael somehow. David lost his temper and all of it spilled – everything he'd been subjected to while Rafael had lived with us." Mrs Rainsford paused for a moment as if recalling the conversation and she shivered so subtly that Klavier wouldn't have noticed it if it wasn't for the glass that shook in her hands. "I was... _horrified_. I couldn't understand... I couldn't believe how little I knew my own two sons." She placed the glass on the table next to her and Klavier noticed how much her hand was shaking now. "I don't know how I could have raised such a monster without seeing what he was capable of doing."

Before Klavier could say anything or Mrs Rainsford could continue, there was the sound of a door slamming shut and the sound of keys. He turned towards the movement to his right and saw a broad, tall man with greying hair and a thick jaw walk in. He knew, without introductions, who the elder man was. Mr Rainsford slowed his walk as he spotted Klavier and then his eyes slid to his wife questioningly.

"This is Klavier Gavin, dear," Mrs Rainsford said. "Kristoph Gavin's younger brother."

Klavier barely felt the loud crick as his head snapped back to the woman; he felt as though he'd been burnt. There was something dark in the comparison and he didn't know if he was imagining it. He hadn't thought about the fact that both of Rafael's parents must have met his elder brother. What did they think of him? What did they think of him now that he was in prison for a murder himself?

"Mr Gavin," the man said and Klavier was surprised by how deep the voice was. He turned back to the elder Rainsford who, he now noticed, was dressed the part of a businessman. He was clad in a navy suit and his hair was swept back neatly. He was staring at Klavier with those same steely blue eyes that Rafael had and Klavier fought the urge to frown at him.

"Herr Rainsford," Klavier said, standing up and extending a hand to the man. "It is nice to meet you."

To his surprise, the man glanced down at Klavier's hand and raised an eyebrow mockingly. "I can't say the same about you, Mr Gavin."

Klavier's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he glanced at Mrs Rainsford who was staring at her hands intensely. He turned back to David's father and his own warmth dissipated.

"I am sorry, Herr Rainsford," Klavier said in a cool voice. "I am not aware of any manner in which I have offended you."

"It's your surname that offends me, Mr Gavin," the other replied, sinking into the nearby settee. Klavier watched as the man draped his arm over the back and turned to Klavier with calm eyes. "It's as simple as that."

"And why is that?" Klavier asked tightly.

"Your brother defended Rafael."

Klavier frowned. "If Kristoph failed to get your son acquitted, it is because he was guilty. I see no – "

"Mr Gavin," Mr Rainsford interrupted. "I am a businessman. I never enter a meeting without knowing exactly who I'm dealing with – I will find out everything I can about the people I am about to talk with. You see, I don't want to insult anyone or make any idiotic assumptions." He looked at his hand interestedly and Klavier had a brief flashback of Rafael doing the same thing in his cell the first time he'd met him. "I suggest you apply the motto to your own investigations."

"I do not understand," Klavier said although he had an idea where it was going.

Mr Rainsford's eyes pierced him. "I have only one son. His name is David."

The venomous words doused Klavier like icy water and he felt all of his innards freeze over. His ears rung with another's eerily calm voice and for a second, he could have sworn that someone else had been sitting in Mr Rainsford's place.

"If you did not like my brother, perhaps you would like to explain why he was the representative for the defence?" Klavier asked, his own voice cold now.

"I had nothing to do with that disgraceful sham of a trial," Mr Rainsford replied and the tranquil tone of his voice made Klavier feel as though he'd just been screamed at by a thousand soulless creatures. "I have only one son and that's David. The animal your brother defended deserves to be where he is now."

Klavier was torn between agreeing with Mr Rainsford and reminding him that whatever Rafael was now, was the product of his upbringing and if he wanted to point fingers, he should look in the mirror. Klavier had a feeling that the father didn't hate his son because he felt some sort of compassion for Gale and this theory sprang from his experience with another man he had once known briefly. One man who'd cast Klavier aside in a similar manner.

"Now," Mr Rainsford said, standing up and approaching him. "Allow me to show you the way out."

"Herr Rainsford," Klavier said, turning to face the man. "I need to talk with your son." He injected all of his authority and strength into his gaze and words, knowing that he had to call upon everything he had to face this man – he knew it because he'd had to deal with his father at a young age and he knew that weakness in any shape or form would earn him nothing but scorn. And Klavier hated the fact that even at age 24 he was unable to break free of that past… that even now, he could face a man like his father and be reduced to feeling like a child.

"My son is managing one of my branches elsewhere, Mr Gavin. I don't want him getting caught up in an investigation that will result in nothing but trouble."

"If you have disowned your son because he murdered a woman, can you not allow me to put this case to rest once and for all? There are too many unanswered questions and I need David's help in order to uncover the truth behind Gale's - "

"Miss Sanders," Mr Rainsford interrupted, "has nothing to do with myself, my wife or my son. I won't allow you to disturb our peace for the sake of a dead woman."

Klavier's eyes narrowed and he suddenly felt the need to punch the man in his sanctimonious little face. He should have known that Gale's death had no bearing on his feelings of anger towards Rafael. No doubt, David's father simply hated Rafael because he'd let him down in terms of honour and family. No, Mr Rainsford didn't care about Gale anymore than his wife of Rafael did.

Klavier simply glanced at Mrs Rainsford and her bowed head only confirmed his suspicions. He wasn't going to find any help or guilt here. So, he made to leave but before he could pass through the doorframe of the room, he turned around.

"Gale Sanders died to save David," Klavier said in a low voice, his eyes on the floor. "Your son." He raised his gaze to them; Mr Rainsford was still staring at him with a serenely blank expression and Mrs Rainsford was adamantly refusing to meet his eyes. "If, at the very least, you cannot honour her for this, then you will never have the peace you speak of. Even if all of the troubles of the world stayed away, you will never be a family – because the disturbance lies within. David is part of the reason why she is dead. Heartbreak aside, Herr and Fräu Rainsford, David left her at the mercy of your other son despite knowing Rafael's dangerous nature. You are their parents. Whether or not you wish to acknowledge it, you are both also responsible for Gale's death. If you cannot feel any guilt over that…" he turned away from them disgustedly. "Then I am not surprised your sons turned out the way they did."

And with these words, Klavier walked away.

* * *

The bow slipped across the strings of violin distorting and abruptly ending the music that had been filling the cell as Kristoph looked up to the sound of Klavier's shouting. He rose to his feet slowly and carefully placed his instrument back in its resting place on the shelf before he turned around to see Klavier storm into view. The younger Gavin snapped at the guard outside Kristoph's cell who then promptly left the vicinity. Klavier turned to his brother with fire in his eyes and Kristoph's arms folded elegantly. Klavier recognised the gesture; it meant he wasn't defensive because he had no need to be but he was ready for whatever Klavier was about to throw his way.

And throw, he would.

Klavier rammed the keys into the lock with unnecessary force his burning eyes fixed on his brother and once he stepped inside, he slammed the cell door behind him, the keys jangling violently upon impact.

"Two visits in one day," Kristoph said as Klavier approached him. "I'm not optimistic enough to believe it's out of sheer affection. What brings you back to my – "

His words were cut off as he swiftly raised his scarred hand to block the punch Klavier had thrown. Both brothers froze – Kristoph at the fact that his brother had just attacked him and Klavier because of the way Kristoph was staring at him; he had expected anger, shock or disapproval at the very least but he wasn't prepared for the impassive expression he was faced with. After a moment, Kristoph slowly forced Klavier's fist to his side again.

"Next time, tell me what's wrong before you decide to try and smash my Anevay glasses into my face," Kristoph said, lowering himself into his chair. He entwined his fingers together with the air of someone who'd just welcomed someone into his home. "Do you want to tell me why you tried to attack me, _brűderlein_?"

"I have just met Herr Rainsford," Klavier hissed through clenched teeth as he attempted to control his need to attack his brother again. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Kristoph's expression didn't change. "I don't understand why you're intent on seeing more into the matter than there is," he said calmly. "Rafael Rainsford approached me for my services. I fought the case and lost. The matter ends there."

"Bullshit!" Klavier spat. "You expect me to believe that it is simply a coincidence that you defended Rafael when his father is - "

"Be quiet."

Klavier did so – in surprise. Kristoph's expression was finally changing; it darkened like a black cloud sweeping in with startling speed. Klavier watched in silence as Kristoph got to his feet, disapproval betraying his brother's everlasting composure. The elder Gavin faced Klavier fully and if it hadn't been for the suffocating aura that encased Kristoph these days, Klavier could have been forgiven for thinking he was looking at his reflection.

"As always, you jump ten steps ahead like an unreasonable child," Kristoph said, the pleasant tone gone to be replaced by anger but Klavier was more satisfied than anything else. He was sick of his brother's passive responses, his eternal patience and calm. "I would think seven years at the bench would have quashed your penchant for reckless assumptions. This has nothing to do with father."

Klavier snorted. "Do not take me for a fool, Kristoph. I have seen far too many similarities between – "

"You don't know what you're talking about," Kristoph interrupted coldly. "I suggest you go home and leave this case be. It has turned you into a gibbering paranoid unable to see the facts for what they are."

"Is that right," Klavier said sarcastically. "What _are _the facts, Kristoph?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Klavier," Kristoph frowned at him. "I was simply doing my job. Might I suggest you do the same?"

"You defended a brutal murderer!" Klavier shouted. "And Rainsford Sr. is _vater _incarnate! _Do you really expect me to believe your lies?_"

"I expect not," Kristoph said. Klavier saw the burning fire in his brother's eyes at last and his satisfaction grew – it felt good knowing Kristoph was capable of human emotions like the rest of mankind. Klavier needed to crack that infuriatingly calm exterior, he _needed _to know there some humanity left in his brother. "I have killed a man. So why are you so surprised I defended a murderer? I am one myself."

Klavier felt as though Kristoph had punched him, knocking the breath out of him.

He stared at Kristoph, unable to believe the cruelty of his words. Didn't he care what those words meant to Klavier? Had he forgotten he was the only family Klavier had left? The satisfaction he had gathered from Kristoph's reaction, the modicum of hope that had grown from it was now gone leaving him as cold and empty as his brother's expression.

_If he wants to play games, so will I, _Klavier thought icily, glaring at Kristoph.

"Of course," he said in his prosecutor's calm voice. "I had forgotten who I was talking to. Still, I do not believe in a coincidence such as this. I believe you defended Rafael to help him regain his standing in his father's eyes. I believe you did it because it would be some sort of redemption for yourself. I believe it was to make up for your own failures in _vater's _eyes. No matter how much of a - "

All of a sudden, Kristoph's calm mask slipped and he launched himself towards Klavier, his hand raised. The young prosecutor stayed rooted to the spot, waiting for the feel of his brother's hand colliding with his face, the sound of the impact… but it never came. Kristoph stopped mere inches away, his hand raised at an odd angle and fury etched in every line of his handsome face.

"Look at this," Kristoph hissed and Klavier turned his gaze to the fist before him; his eyes fell upon the scar on the back of his hand. He looked back at Kristoph wondering if, at last, his brother was going to tell him how he'd received it. Oddly, he was filled with a dread he didn't understand. "This is father's doing!" Kristoph's face was twisted into an expression Klavier had only seen once before and the similarity to that other time was indicator enough of how pained Kristoph was right now. Somehow, this thought made Klavier feel as though he'd been doused in icy water.

Klavier turned his eyes to the dark scar on his brother's hand. "He did this?"

Kristoph yanked his hand out of Klavier's sight and took a step back, the rage potent still. He continued to glare at Klavier with such vehemence that it took everything Klavier had to stop himself from flinching.

"Don't talk to me of things you have no knowledge of, Klavier," Kristoph said quietly, turning away, his voice strained. "I knew father better than you. Don't try to tell me you know anything of his nature."

Klavier wanted to ask what didn't he know of his father's nature. He wanted to ask why Kristoph had been scarred and he wanted to know why Kristoph was so angry. He'd loved father… why was he so riled up over a few comments Klavier had made? But he knew he couldn't ask any of those questions because Kristoph wouldn't give him an answer to any of them. So, with narrowed eyes, he asked all of the questions inadvertently, hoping his next question would do the trick;

"You are severely distraught at the mention of father today, Kristoph," Klavier said with narrowed eyes. "What is the matter? Have you not spent most of your adult life defending what he did?" His voice deepened with disgust and hatred. "Have you not spent forever forsaking the only person you should have – "

"Get out."

Klavier's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?"

"I said," Kristoph turned around and Klavier was taken aback at the dangerous gleam in his brother's eyes. "_Get out_."

"Why?" Klavier challenged. "Has my brother, the coolest defense in the West, no answer for this rather interesting contradiction? That is your job is it not?" he jeered. "To look for contradictions in my arguments? It is what you have been doing for – "

"Klavier," Kristoph said, his tone dangerous. "I am warning you – "

"Or what!" Klavier said, beginning to shout again. "Are you going to kill me too?" He waited for a response to fall from his brother's pursed lips but when they remained tightly pressed together, his agitation grew. "Go ahead! You have defended murderers all your damn life! You have never honoured mother! Why not just – " He broke off, choking on the lump at the back of his throat and turned away, unable to look at Kristoph any longer. "You have murdered all of my peace. Why not finish the job? Kill me."

There was no more sound as both brothers stood in the cell tortured by their circumstances and lost in the echoes of the past. The young prosecutor didn't see the guilt nor the grief that passed across his brother's usually expressionless face nor did he see the strange way the unfamiliar feelings cemented into stony resentment. He turned away then, not wanting Klavier to see the loss of composure because he knew that his little brother wouldn't understand the emotions that crossed his face. Kristoph knew that Klavier's assumptions extended to himself and he didn't want him to believe that any of the hatred Kristoph felt was for him.

But he wouldn't explain either.

And the coolest defense in the west didn't know that the stiff posture of Klavier's body was not entirely out of anger. He didn't know that the reason Klavier lingered was because he was waiting for his only family to apologise to him and explain himself. He didn't know that the hope inside of Klavier hadn't really died and he still woke up every day hoping that Kristoph would finally tell him why he'd done what he had…

Neither knew how much they treasured their blood tie to one another.

"_Was hast du dir dabei gedacht_?" Klavier murmured.

"Go home," Kristoph said and Klavier was infuriated to hear the calm back in his voice.

"_Zur Hölle mit dir_!" Klavier snapped rounding on Kristoph who'd seated himself back down.

"Yes, Klavier," Kristoph said, picking up a book from the table beside him. "That is the final destination for me and my ilk."

* * *

Klavier threw his keys aside as he entered his friend's home and headed straight for the sofa in the centre room before him. He sank to it as his hands rose to clasp his head and he took a deep breath to calm himself. His blood was still boiling and his body still trembling from his argument with Kristoph.

He tried his best to clear his mind of everything that was plaguing it – he didn't want to think about his emotions nor the things he'd heard fall from his brother's lips. He didn't want to let his mind travel back through time, sift through the memories and stop at that most horrifying day that his entire life had changed.

_Damn him! _Klavier cursed Kristoph. _Damn him and his impenetrable – _

"Klavier?"

His mind numbed almost instantly. His thoughts broke off and scattered into the deepest caverns of his mind.

Her voice was like a divine hand reaching to pull him out of the dark, her voice came from behind, hesitant but calm. Klavier's mind was surprised but his body reacted slowly; his hands slipped from among his golden locks and he straightened slowly. He wanted to turn around and look at her, to drink in the sight of her because she was everything that he needed…

But he didn't dare to face her.

He didn't want to look at himself in the mirror because of who he looked like. He didn't want to see her eyes run over his features and over his hair because it wasn't just for him – someone out there shared his reflection and that someone rested behind bars. If Klavier himself couldn't bear to look in the mirror, how could he expect her to? Did she see him… Klavier? Or was she disgusted every time she laid eyes on him because of his resemblance to the man who'd tried to frame someone else for the murder he'd committed?

Uncertainty flooded him and his resolve wavered. Should he leave her alone? Maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe she didn't feel that way about him and he'd just fooled himself into thinking she did because he needed someone to care for him... because he loved her so much and he needed her to love him back.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was closer and softer. His body responded by beginning to hum the familiar tune that made all of his melodies sound like a howl lost on the sweeping winds.

_Don't turn around. Just walk away. She will only be grateful._

"Klavier?"

His thirst for her won out over his fear of her gaze and he turned towards her; the first thing he noticed was that she was dressed in nothing but a large t-shirt that reached mid-way through her thighs. Her legs were bare, her hair loose around her shoulders. Her arms were wrapped around her and a confused look inhabited her face. His eyes were drawn to a dark smear just on the tips of her parted lips and he tilted his head, focusing on it. What on earth was it?

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked and he looked up into her eyes again. She touched her face self-consciously and Klavier suppressed a smile at the way her cheeks were darkening. His confidence returned: he hadn't been wrong. She did feel something for him.

He felt the pressure leaving him and the metal band that had been tightening around his chest broke so suddenly that it was as if he'd been knocked back with intense force – he stared at her for several moments, just wanting to thank her for relieving all of the pain he'd been enduring but he knew she wouldn't understand – not yet. So, instead, he moved around the sofa and approached her, wrapping his fingers around the bandaged hand that was pressed lightly against her cheek. His eyes dropped to her lips once again and he saw now that it was just an array of crumbs – no doubt from her Snackoos – and he smiled.

"Been snacking have we, Fräulein?" he whispered, stroking the wrist he was holding in his hand.

He waited for a response but she simply stared at him and the silence was disturbed only by the sound of her breathing which was, to his delight, turning ragged. His eyes dropped to her shoulders and chest and he could see it heaving. His own heartbeat was steadily growing faster, charging him with a force he couldn't control, couldn't define. He pulled her closer gently and he was gratified when she fell against him, unresisting and silent.

"Did you leave me any?" he murmured.

Still, she didn't answer him and he was mesmerized by the way she continued to stare at him, as if she was seeing him for the first time. Her green eyes were flickering between his slowly. Klavier lifted her other hand and pressed it against his chest, right over his beating heart, so that she could feel the rhythm of the song his body played for her, so that she could be burnt by the searing heat of his body.

Still she didn't speak.

"I will take that as a no," he said quietly. His hand rose to her lips and his finger ran across the pink flesh, wiping at the crumbs which stuck obediently to his skin. Her eyes widened but she didn't move and Klavier looked at his finger interestedly. "I suppose I have to make do with this, _mein liebe,_" he whispered.

And Klavier watched Ema's expression cloud as his own lips pressed against the corner of hers and his tongue dragged across the soft skin, licking at the crumbs. He kissed the tips of her lips and when they parted, his tongue flicked at the space in between, not really entering her mouth. He moved back across her skin and his lips lifted the last of the crumbs and while the taste of Snackoos registered dimly at the back of his mind, it was her essence he really tasted. The milky skin exuded her sweet innocence, wrapping itself around him like a welcoming entity pulling him closer into its arms. He could feel its cool fingers like anaesthetic to the brutal pain of Kristoph's deceit. He could smell it's rosy fragrance overpowering the stench of Kristoph's lies. She was the only shade in an unforgiving desert.

It was here, in Ema's purity, that Klavier healed his blistering wounds.

* * *

Was hast du dir dabei gedacht? - what were you thinking?

Zur Hölle mit dir - the hell with you


	10. Dr Death

Dr Death

"Deston," Ema said over the top of the Maserati she was about to enter, a sad thought hitting her suddenly. He looked at her from the other side inquisitorially. "Do you think maybe we could drop by the hospital?"

"Why?" Deston asked, instantly concerned. "Are you feeling unwell?"

She shook her head. "I was hoping we could, you know… see Tessa."

Deston's expression cleared a little, shifting into a gentle smile. "Sure," he said. "I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."

"Thanks," Ema said and she opened her door, sliding into the passenger seat, her thoughts on Tessa.

She hadn't visited her friend in what seemed like forever and she felt immensely guilty for not having gone to see her earlier. Ema didn't know how she felt about the fact that Tessa was married to Daryan nor that she was the reason why he had tried to pin the crime on a child… but she did know Tessa well enough to be certain that if she'd known what her husband was up to, she would have stopped him. There just wasn't a single bad bone in her body.

Tessa Crescend. Her mind only had one response to that thought: _wow_. Ema had never really thought about Daryan except to note that he was a cocky little bastard who got on her nerves and, after the revelation of his crime, she'd disliked him more than ever. She'd never thought beyond that and the idea of him being so in love with a woman that he would _murder _someone simply awed her. She couldn't comprehend that amount of devotion and commitment. To love someone so much that you would do quite literally anything for them…

Then again, wasn't she, herself, falling into that same dangerous abyss of uncertainty? Wasn't she also pushing her limits and getting involved in matters she didn't understand out of sheer love for one man?

_But I would never __**murder**__ someone, _she thought. _I would never take the life of another just to…_

Just to what? To save Klavier's life? You'd let him die?

_No! I would find some way to save him without having to resort to murder! I mean that's just – _

So if somebody had a gun to his head and you had a choice – kill his attacker or let Klavier be killed. You wouldn't kill the man to save –

_That's different! _She argued with the voice, her thoughts panicky. _I would have no choice!_

That's what _you _may _think_. What if there _was _another way but you were too panicked, too confused and too worried about him to think of it?

_What – ?_

Don't be so quick to judge Daryan. You know that if Klavier was lying in Tessa's place –

"Shut up!" Ema snapped.

"I didn't say anything, Em," Deston said and she scowled at his amusement, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment. Her thoughts had made her forget her surroundings and now she felt painfully aware of the fact that she was with him. She looked away and tilted her head so that the brown curtain of her hair fell forward, shielding her from his gaze. She cursed her inner monologue. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she lied. "I'm fine."

He was quiet for a moment and she was sure that he didn't believe her. To her relief, he decided not to push it and changed the subject, giving her a reprieve from her thoughts.

"Tessa will be happy to see you," Deston said. "She heard about what happened. She's been worried about you."

Ema's insides lurched with surprise and a bittersweet pang. She looked at Deston with troubled eyes and shook her head, bewildered. "Why is she stressing out over me? She shouldn't be focusing on anything except getting better."

"That's Tessa for you," Deston sighed. "She's a special woman. She had to be – it would take a special person to affect Daryan so much."

"How did they meet?" Ema asked, her curiosity peaked. Daryan and Tessa were so different that she couldn't imagine what on earth had brought them together – he was so dark and predatory and she was so sweet and gentle… what had drawn them to one another?

To Ema's surprise, Deston laughed. "He was out one day and, as is usual, he got jumped on by a couple of fans," he looked at Ema sideways who scowled, remembering the girls trailing after Klavier and Deston that she often had to deal with. "Yeah," Deston nodded. "Despite his arrogant behaviour, Daryan doesn't really have the patience for them. So, there he is, stuck signing stuff when Tessa, who's standing a few feet away, calls at the girls to hurry up already 'cause they need to get going. Obviously, Daryan's intrigued by her because she doesn't say a word to him, doesn't ask for an autograph or anything of the sort. She walks off with her friends, without a second look, and he hears her chastising her friends for being such hounds. Naturally, Daryan's taken aback and wants to know everything about her and why she didn't jump on him along with the rest."

"Huh," Ema scoffed. "So typical. You rock boys don't know what you want – one minute you hate the attention and then you're hounding the ones who _won't _hound you." Her thoughts turned to a certain blond prosecutor who seemed to be exhibiting the same behaviour.

Deston threw her an amused glance. "Thinking of glimmerous fops are we?"

"No!" Ema snapped too quickly and her friend smirked at the road. She pulled out what was left of her Snackoos and shoved some in her mouth.

"Uh oh. The Snackoos are out."

"Finish the story," commanded Ema, grumpily.

"Yes ma'am," Deston replied sombrely. "Daryan tracked her down and, as per Daryan's style, got in her face." He chuckled. "I hear she wasn't too impressed."

"You weren't there for any of it, were you?" Ema asked, remembering Deston's comment about having to dig up on Daryan's activities after his trial to learn the reason behind his actions.

Deston cocked his head, his eyes fixed steadily on the road and he was quiet for a moment as he focused on the turn ahead. It was a minute or two before he spoke again. "None of us were aware of what was going on in Daryan's life. He's always been…" he took a deep breath as if to consider his sentence, "…_private._ It's not easy to understand Daryan, and he's difficult to take, but once you do get to know him, it's obvious what kind of a man he is."

Instantly, Ema's mind started whirring, the silence voice inside her already whispering spiteful remarks; _yeah, he's the type to murder a man and pin it on a child. He's the type to attack a blind woman to conceal his secret. He's the Gant type._

"You're making judgements," Deston said, his eyes still on the road. Ema didn't respond anything because what could she say? She wouldn't lie to Deston. "I suppose I can understand that too. You've only seen the man on the stand."

The car slowed at a traffic light and Deston turned to look at her, his hands resting loosely on the wheel. "I've seen the man behind the curtain."

The look of seriousness that was so unlike Deston made Ema inexplicably curious. All of a sudden, she wanted to know the reason why he suddenly looked so upset. She wondered about this side of Daryan that could illicit such a response from Deston and her thoughts turned to shark-boy. Every time she thought of him (and it wasn't often), Ema saw a ridiculous hairstyle, a cocky smile and dark clothes that reflected an even darker nature. She saw nothing of the man Deston claimed to see.

And yet…

Tessa loved him didn't she? She loved him enough to marry him and forgive him for what he'd done. Or at least, Ema assumed she'd forgiven him. There was no bitterness in her eyes, none of the anger Ema assumed any woman would feel upon learning her husband had murdered a man. What was it in him that had attracted someone as clearly sweet and honest as Tessa?

"What is the man behind the curtain like?" Ema asked after a moment.

Deston seemed surprised but he recovered quickly; with a glance at the changing lights, he once again resumed his course on the road ahead and Ema wondered, in the growing silence, whether he was going to answer her question.

And then, at long last, he spoke: "Daryan is one of the most loyal people I have ever met. I've seen him come to the defence of his friends even if we were wrong. He's stood by us through the rough and he will gladly take a bullet for the people he loves. He's not the most humble nor the most charming man but he's got reason to be the egomaniac he is." Deston paused and a small smile flickered across his face. "He's not had the easiest past and the result is he's not the poster boy for the ideal son-in-law or whatever. But I've seen him work 36 hours straight on a case without a break. He hates criminals and his respect for the law is…" he shook his head and glanced at Ema whose face had darkened. "Well, I guess I shouldn't finish that sentence, huh?"

"If he respects the law so damn much, why'd – "

"You know why," Deston interrupted.

Ema glowered at him. "You know you have a really irritating habit of cutting across people." She crossed her arms. "It's rude."

Deston laughed. "I'm sorry. I _am_ rude when I get defensive." Ema looked out of the window to see him pulling the car into the parking lot, focused on finding a spot. She kept her gaze fixed determinedly on the road outside and Deston made no attempt to engage her in conversation again which was just fine with her.

Her fingers curled angrily around the packet of Snackoos in her lap. No matter how many voices tried to make her see otherwise and no matter how many times Deston tried to make her understand Daryan's point of view, it wouldn't work. There was no way in hell that she would ever forgive Daryan for what he'd done to LeTouse, Lamiroir, Machi and, most of all, Klavier. Aside from the trauma he'd caused the woman and her companion, Ema would never forget the hopeless horror she'd seen mar Klavier's smooth features. She knew the chaos she'd found in Klavier's office the night after the trial was nothing compared to the mess Daryan had left in his mind.

"Ema," Deston said suddenly and her eyes turned to him reluctantly He'd turned off the ignition and was leaning against the wheel, his head bowed and Ema was surprised at how unlike himself he looked – tired, defeated. His shoulders were slumped as if they'd been forced down by the sudden fall of a thousand troubles and his eyes were closed as though he wished for sleep to claim him. When he turned them to Ema, she was taken aback at the dark shadows that seemed to manifest themselves beneath them.

"Lana told me about Gant."

Ema froze.

Then, with all of the calm she could muster, she opened the door, stepped out onto the parking lot and slammed the door shut behind her as gently as she could. She took a deep breath, adjusting the bag on her shoulder, and began making her way towards the hospital building, focusing on everything mundane she could see; the dark gray of the ground beneath her, its contrast against the white of the nearing building. She looked at the midmorning high sun, a harsh star sending forth its blinding rays and forbidding any to look at it. Ema knew it was nonsensical of her to think this way but she couldn't help but regard the sun as a proud, arrogant object. Obviously, scientifically speaking, it was ludicrous but it was a thought that had been with her for as long as she could remember and she was certain that, as much as people liked it, it didn't feel the same way about people. She, herself, much preferred the rain.

"Ema, would you stop running away from me today?" Deston called after her and she was pulled out of the thoughts she'd tried so hard to turn her attention to. Her mind was bright back to the conversation he'd started and she wheeled on him angrily.

"If you want me to stop running away from you then I suggest you quit with the crappy conversations," Ema said, fixing Deston with a steady gaze. "I don't even know what my past has anything to do with – no!" She threw her hands up to stop Deston from speaking. "I don't want to hear it, Deston. Hurry up – we have a busy day ahead of us and I want to see Tessa."

She turned away from Deston and exhaled deeply but discreetly. As she resumed her walk towards the hospital doors, Deston's voice floated after her and momentarily froze her.

"You try so hard to be a fortress that no one can breach," he said and she cringed at the tone of his voice; it was sad… almost pitying. "Don't you know that nothing is impenetrable?"

Ema's eyes closed, his words hitting her almost painfully. She lost her composure for a split second but then the threat of tears that burned at the back of her throat snapped her back to reality. She wouldn't let herself wallow in the pit of emotions that she'd started to make her way into – she knew the consequences of such a mistake. It resulted in her screwing up something and she refused to let that happen. Blinking fiercely, she looked at Deston over her shoulder.

"Clearly that thick skull of yours is," she said coldly. "What part of _drop it_ don't you get? Now move your ass, Cavatin. We don't have all day to stand around and talk nonsense."

Without another word or opportunity for the Gavinner to say anything else, Ema marched through the glass doors before her but just as she passed through, she was certain she heard a low chuckle.

"Yellow-bellied canary," she grumbled moodily.

* * *

When Ema entered the room, there were already two men sat next to Tessa, both Gavinners, which she recognised as Raoul and Seren. They turned to look at her and she suddenly felt uncomfortable; she recalled the last time she'd met Raoul and his arrogant behaviour which provided her with enough irritation to gather her wits around her. The other was Seren (no doubt about that – his ridiculously leafy green outfit gave him away) and Ema almost groaned at the thought that she would have to deal with _yet another _fop.

"Hey guys!" Deston said cheerfully as he entered after her and Ema looked at him, in surprise; wasn't he supposed to be the only Gavinner who knew about Tessa and Daryan? Since when did they all know? She turned back to the other two but when she saw Raoul's outwardly cocky look, she turned her gaze to Seren whose smile looked more friendly. When she saw Tessa, her attention drifted away from everyone else. She was surveying Ema with a tired smile, looking more gaunt than ever. Ema moved without thinking – she approached the bed and Seren automatically moved out of the way. Ema's gaze ran over her friend.

There were more wires running into Tessa than before and Ema was sure that the woman had lost more weight – if possible. Her skin was paler than the bones it was stretched over, with patches of gray. Dark circles underlined her eyes.

Ema's heart hurt at the sight – she wished she could do something for Tessa, something that could help her to recover and regain some of the glow and beauty that Ema had first noticed and was now noticeably dimmed. She wrapped her hand around Tessa's damp one, shaken by how cold it was and she took a deep breath to steady herself, to try and calm her beating heart but her logical brain was failing her. It was failing her because there was no way it could comfort her with something that was clearly a lie; it couldn't tell her that Tessa would be alright when the woman lay there in front of her, lost in a pile of white sheets, looking as though death had swept its cold hand over her, inches away from touching her.

She took another deep breath to steady herself, trying to find comfort in the understanding smile that adorned her friend's features. Ema couldn't understand the content look on Tessa's face nor the gentleness of her smile. How could that glimmer still be alive in her eyes?

Ema wondered what would she be like if she was in Tessa's place. Would she be as brave? Would she be able to smile with impending death on her mind and care about other people's worries? Would she be able to contain her tears long enough to comfort Lana, Phoenix, Miles, Deston or…

Klavier.

She blinked. In the nanosecond that she did, the darkness offered her the situation: herself in a hospital bed with Klavier holding her hand as she lay dying. Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of having to leave him behind, knowing she was entering an unknown realm – whatever it may be, the afterlife or just non-existence – where Klavier wouldn't be to irritate her. A realm where she couldn't scowl in the face of his devastating smiles, couldn't touch him even if it was to push him away when he invaded her personal space… a place without Klavier would be… hell.

She took another deep breath but it came out ragged. Tessa didn't even have that. Her lover – her husband – was in prison for trying to save her. In that moment, Ema didn't know whether she hated Daryan for risking losing his time with Tessa when he should have been with her…

Or for screwing up in his smuggling of the cocoon.

She suddenly saw a whole new perspective of the case: why had Borginia made the cocoons illegal? Yeah, they could be turned into a deadly poison but so were a thousand other substances that were used worldwide. Why was the cocoon banned so, especially when it was the only known cure for an incurable disease? Surely its positive attributes outweighed the negative? All of her hatred turned towards the government of Borginia and she was in the process of thinking up a vile enough curse for them when Tessa's hand curled around hers tightly and she was snapped back to her friend.

"How are you?" Tessa asked quietly. "I heard what happened."

"I'm fine," Ema reassured her, forcing a smile on her face. "I mean, I'm being irritated by glimmerous fops left, right and centre so I guess I'm not in too bad a shape, right?"

"Hey!" Deston exclaimed from behind them and both women turned to look at him. He'd managed to find a chair and was seated beside Raoul whose feet were perched on the edge of the bed (honestly, didn't that man know how to keep his legs down?) and Seren who was completely at ease, leaning against the wall. The latter turned to Deston with a smile.

"What's wrong, Deston? Annoyed that she finally saw your true colours?" Seren asked and Ema was pleasantly surprised at the soft tone of his voice: it was tender and soothing, not at all what she expected from a member of the Gavinners. She paid closer attention and saw that he was just as mad as the rest of them – physically speaking. Viridian clothes aside, he was tall and slim, his face tanned and his light brown hair gelled into a mass of spikes, the tips coloured red and white (Ema knew it: tan and crazy hair were a Gavinner trait). His eyes twinkled blue and the strange thought passed her mind; _they have nothing on Klavier's_.

"I'm not a glimmerous fop," Deston insisted, looking at Ema. "C'mon Em, tell 'em I'm not or I'll never hear the end of it!"

His horrified expression seemed almost too sincere and Ema felt a twinge of pity but then she remembered the nuisance he'd been today. She turned away from him and Raoul and Seren started laughing over Deston's groans.

"Guys," Tessa said, looking at them and they silenced almost instantly. "Can you give us a minute?"

Ema saw them get up. Seren suddenly moved forward and held out his hand toward Ema who looked at him, astonished at the unexpected gesture. He smiled at her as she took it in her own.

"It's nice to meet you at last, Ema," he said, cheerfully shaking it and she noticed the way he addressed her – almost as if he'd heard of her before. "I hope we meet again sometime."

"I – uh… Thank you. Likewise." Ema watched dazedly as he walked out of the door and shut it behind him, leaving the two women alone. She turned back to Tessa with a quizzical look.

"The boys know all about you," Tessa explained and Ema's surprise (and curiosity) increased. Why on earth would a group of rock stars know who she was and, what's more, what had they been saying about her? Had Deston said something to them? Ema's eyes widened in horror at the thought that they knew about her and Klavier…

No.

She shook her head. _Don't be stupid. There's nothing between you and Klavier for them to discuss._ Ema relaxed a little before stiffening again almost instantly. Deston and Daryan had discussed her and Klavier to make plans. Could it be possible…? No. No, it wasn't be possible. She was being self-centred. She swallowed noisily.

Were they making fun of her? Did they think she was a ridiculous little nobody and it was outlandish that Klavier was even bothering with her? The thought made her heart sink and, as paranoia often does, it planted the seed of doubt in her mind. Her mind began to conjure all sorts of scenarios: the Gavinners laughing at her, eyeing her incredulously, surveying her for the special quality that seemed to have attracted Klavier and shaking their heads in confusion when they found none…

"Ema?" Tessa said and Ema snapped out of her panic. Her friend was watching her with a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

"Of course!" Ema said and almost cringed at the obvious strain in her voice. She pulled one of the chairs nearby towards her and settled in it, her hands wrapping around Tessa's again. "How are you feeling?"

She smiled. "I'm good thanks, Ema. I'm glad you came."

Ema cringed with guilt for not having paid more attention to Tessa. She was the first real female friend Ema had made since she moved back to the states and it wasn't until her friendship with Tessa progressed that Ema realised how much she'd missed this time with another female. There were certain things that could only be discussed among women and Ema, as unladylike as she seemed, needed to indulge in those discussions too. Her sister lived so far away and was so busy most of the time that Ema didn't want to bother her and there was no one else noteworthy that she could talk to about these things.

"I'm sorry," Ema said quietly, looking into her friends eyes but Tessa was already shaking her head.

"Don't be. I get more visitors than I should get. The nurses are getting annoyed with me," she said with a smile. "You probably wouldn't have had a chance to see me anyway. Don't beat yourself up about it."

Ema was grateful even though she knew that Tessa was probably only saying that to make her feel better about herself. She was deeply touched by the selflessness of her nature.

"Deston tells me you know about me and Daryan," Tessa said and Ema smiled sheepishly, suddenly feeling embarrassed: if Deston had told her about that, he'd probably told her the rest of it too. "I'm sorry you were stressing out about the whole situation, Ema," she apologised. "I hope you understa – "

"Don't say that," she quickly interrupted, unable to hear any sort of explanation from Tessa. There was something wrong about the woman in the bed apologising when it was Ema's fault for jumping to conclusions. "I get it."

Tessa smiled graciously. "Has Klavier asked about me?"

The small frown of confusion that was beginning to grow on her forehead smoothed out almost instantly as Ema remember the day Klavier had burst into the hospital room and mistaken Tessa as Deston's secret girlfriend. She snickered at the memory – it was funny to her now.

"I think he's forgotten about the whole thing," Ema said, cocking her head, wondering at the situation. Surely Klavier should have asked who it was. "Hmmm, that _is _strange. I'd have thought he would have some questions about you."

"From what Daryan told me about Klavier, he doesn't seem very nosy," Tessa said. "Maybe he just didn't want to pry. In any case, I'm glad he didn't. I don't think he would handle my identity too well."

Ema's thoughts turned serious; would Klavier be furious that Daryan had lied to him about so much more than just the cocoon? Or…?

"Have you ever considered…" Ema started hesitantly, "…that maybe Klavier might not be…" she paused again, trying to find the right words.

"That he might understand?" Tessa offered and Ema nodded. "We have. But we think that it's best not to say anything – for now anyway. We'll tell him when the time is right."

Ema opened her mouth to say something then closed it again, knowing there was no gentle way to voice what she was thinking. How could she say to Tessa that time was a luxury neither she nor Daryan had? How could she say to Tessa that the right time might never come and Klavier finding out afterwards could be far too late and disastrous?

_It's not my place. Daryan knows Klavier better than I do. He knows what he's doing._

She hoped.

"Ema, I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Des mentioned something about Klavier."

Ema winced at the name which didn't go unnoticed by Tessa's scrutinising gaze. "Ema?"

Her heart began to race with panic and she started looking around the room wishing there was something she could do to change the subject, to talk about anything – _anything – _but this. She didn't want to talk about it because she didn't want Tessa to see how she felt. She knew that it would reveal itself in her eyes, clear as day. She didn't want to admit her fears to Tessa. She didn't want to sound like a pathetic fan girl hankering after Klavier. She didn't want to tell Tessa that she was beginning to dream about him, that she was spending every moment thinking about Klavier and that everything she said, did, saw and heard revolved around him somehow.

Because, quite frankly, it was madness.

And she most certainly didn't want to be comforted with reassurances that he loved her. She'd _heard_ Klavier say it but that didn't mean it would last. She didn't want to be persuaded into giving Klavier a chance against her better judgement. She just didn't want any part of it when she had so many other things going on.

"Talk to me, sweetie," Tessa said softly.

Ema's resolve wavered as she looked at Tess; wasn't this one of those things that girls only talked about with other girls? Wasn't these the kind of conversations she was missing out on? Wasn't this was she longed for? The chance to talk to someone who would understand and see it from her point of view?

"I er…" Ema trailed off as her thoughts ran circles around her, confusing her and making her dizzy. What could she say? She knew that once she started talking she would tell all… and Tessa had enough going on without having to deal with her Ema's love life. _And it's insensitive, _she thought. _She must long for Daryan every day and here you are agonising over something so petty. _

"It's all good, Tess," Ema said, forcing a smile. "It's just a misunderstanding."

Tessa stared at her for several long minutes and Ema shifted uncomfortably beneath her heavy stare. There was far too much understanding in her eyes and Ema suddenly felt as though Tessa was seeing more than she should. She looked away from her friend self-consciously.

"You know, when I started dating Daryan, I had my reservations," Tessa said and Ema's attention turned back to her, feeling relieved that she wasn't pushing the subject with Klavier. "It was… difficult. He was so _conceited_ and _smug_ and _famous_. I thought it meant more to me than him and I didn't want to risk everything that came with the situation but… he made it easy on me."

"How?" Ema asked. Her interest lay beyond just curiosity now. She'd never thought of Tessa as once having been in the same situation as Ema.

"He said we would keep it low key and he managed to do it. Still I had my doubts about so many other things. He was famous and accomplished and handsome and, well, I wasn't. I asked myself every day why on earth he was bothering with me and killed myself with paranoia. Each day I'd think today's the day he'll break it off with me. Today he'll tell me it's done and over and I would comfort myself with the thought that at least nobody else would know about it."

Ema tilted her head. "I can't imagine you being insecure about anything, Tess." It was true. Even as ill as she was, Tess was beautiful and sweet and different to most women Ema had come across. What did _she _have to worry about?

"Let's face it Ema. I'm no rock star or painter or famous lawyer or detective. I was simply a consultant at a homeopathic clinic." Tessa smiled as Ema's eyebrows shot up in surprise and she almost kicked herself for not having asked earlier. Why didn't she know these things about people? Why didn't she ask her friends these questions? "Compared to Daryan I was… ordinary." Her eyes moved to the ceiling and Ema's heart turned when she saw the wistful smile touching her friend's face. "One day, Daryan asked me why I was so quiet at times. I told him the truth."

Ema hadn't thought of Daryan as an observant or caring enough person to ask his girlfriend a question like that but now the image made her smile; it was sweet.

"What did he say?" Ema asked.

"He asked me to marry him."

Ema's eyes widened with astonishment. She hadn't been expecting that answer nor that sort of devotion and loyalty from him and she suddenly saw Daryan in a whole new light. She was hearing things about him that she'd never considered, never imagined and the foundation on which she'd based her opinion was crumbling.

Tessa chuckled at the expression on Ema's face. "When I told him my own fears, he said he'd bought the ring several weeks before but he didn't know if I would be ready for it. Even though it had only been over a year, he was certain but afraid I would be frightened off. He told me that I only had to say one word and I could make sure he could never go anywhere."

"_Afraid?_" Ema repeated incredulously. Daryan Crescend… afraid?

Unexpectedly, an image of Klavier flashed in her mind. Klavier last night when she'd pushed him away. She'd seen a look of helplessness on his face, heard the anxiety in his voice but not really registered either. Was Klavier ever… Did she ever affect him that way?

The thought caused a pang in her heart.

Ema wanted to help Klavier. She wanted to help him overcome his problems and fears. She'd never imagined that she could _ever _be his fear or problem. Why hadn't she thought of this before? Why hadn't she understood this when he'd hurt himself instead of jumping to conclusions like she always did? What she had mistaken for manipulation could have easily been his desperation… and she'd been too blind to see it.

"Sometimes… these extraordinary men need an ordinary woman to keep them grounded. To show them the difference between reality and dreams, between the truth and the illusion. To show them that that little _extra _isn't necessarily catching the bad guys or saving lives… but the ability to see into another's heart and destroy the fears there." Ema gazed wondrously at Tessa's benign smile, entranced by the wisdom of her words. "To protect you, not with the power of authority but with the power of their love."

"How?" Ema whispered, all of her pretence gone, all of her defences falling away. "How do I do that?"

"Just let him love you, Ema."

* * *

"You might want to close that door, Em."

Ema was deep in thought when Deston's voice broke into her thoughts. She looked at him in confusion over the car roof and he nodded towards her hand which was resting over the top of the car door. With an 'oh' she moved back and slammed it shut, turning on her heel to look at the clinic they'd arrived at. She glanced over her shoulder at Deston who came to stand by her side.

"You okay, babe?" Deston murmured and she saw him looking at her from the corner of her eye. "You've been really quiet since we left the hospital."

Ema didn't answer. In fact, she heard his words but didn't really give them much thought. She was thinking about Klavier and every passing second filled her with guilt. How could she have assumed so much about him? She'd treated him like a monster, like he didn't have the same kind of feelings that ordinary people did…

"Ema."

She looked at Deston, taking her annoyance at herself out on him. "I'm fine. Let's get going. We've loitered enough." _Rather, I've distracted myself enough. I need to focus. _

He paused for a split second before answering, as if considering whether or not he should let her get away with it. Then he nodded and Ema's hand on her Snackoos relaxed. He looked at the clinic. "How are we going to get in?"

Ema dug around in her bag and pulled out a single key dangling from a key ring. She smirked. "I was the detective on the case so I still have it."

Deston smiled. "That's what you needed to go back to the office for."

"Yep." Ema moved to the entrance, opening the door and stepping inside, followed by Deston. "Clinic's still being swept by us because of all the information he had on criminals. Guess nobody's around today."

"How convenient," Deston said with a laugh as she led him towards Meraktis' office. "I feel like I'm in a movie or something."

"If we were in a movie we wouldn't really encounter so many damn difficulties," Ema said moodily. "Sounds more like a novel to me. They always have absurd disasters that the characters always ridiculously survive."

Deston laughed again. "Are you seriously complaining about surviving two attempts on your life?"

Ema couldn't help herself. It was so _preposterous,_ when he put it that way, that she couldn't stop the laughter that burst from her. She turned on Deston who was laughing with her and shook her head. "I suppose I am, aren't I?"

"Scientifically speaking, I'd say something's wrong with your brain," Deston said with a grin and Ema swatted at him.

"_Scientifically speaking_," she said with emphasis, "the correct term for that little analysis would be _psychology. _Now stop being a wise guy."

"Yes ma'am!" Deston saluted her. She rolled her eyes and wheeled away, walking through the hall and stopping before the office she knew belonged to Meraktis. She pushed the door open and Deston whistled. It was a large office and, to Ema, seemed dark in a way that had nothing to do with lack of light. She walked swiftly to the safe and Deston followed after her.

"You guys left the safe in this place?" Deston asked and she heard scepticism in his voice. "Shouldn't everything in this office have been taken back to Criminal Affairs?"

"Yeah," Ema agreed, tapping in the code. "Some still need to be taken. They're going through this methodically, dusting for fingerprints and the like. Any clues that can help us catch more criminals that might have visited. Anyway, I told them I would take care of the safe but I hadn't got around to it. Here we go," she said suddenly pulling out the folders from it and throwing them on the desk behind her. She placed her bag on the table and sank into the chair.

Deston leaned over her. "Let's see what we have here, shall we?"

Ema flicked through them and found nothing but a few medical reports, phone and medical bills, payments and letters that came with them. She sifted through them but found nothing of use so she went through them again, growing more and more irritated at the useless junk. Beside her, Deston was silent.

"This is full of crap," Ema snapped, waving them around after looking through them yet again. "This was a stupid idea. I don't know what I was thin – "

She broke off as Deston reached out and plucked one of the sheets from her hand. His expression was serious as he raised the paper so close to his face it was almost touching his nose.

"What is it?" she asked, instantly standing up.

"Look here," Deston said pointing to the corner of the page. "Tell me what you see."

Ema took it in her fingers and looked to where he was gesturing. There was mess of lines as if someone had tried to scribble something out. She raised it higher, concentrating on trying to make out what was beneath the scribbles.

She gasped.

Against the light streaming in from the window, the distinction between the lines and the writing was clear. Written beneath the mess was a name.

"Phoenix Wright," she exclaimed, rounding on Deston who was nodded. "It says Phoenix Wright!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Obviously, it will have to be tested but I think we can be pretty sure that's his name there."

"But why would Meraktis have Mr Wright's name on…?"

Suddenly, the accident that Phoenix had been involved in didn't seem like an accident anymore and she let out another gasp of disbelief. It couldn't be… It was unfathomable… And yet it made sense. Instantly, Ema's temper rose at the idea that Meraktis might have tried to run Mr Wright over intentionally. She couldn't help but think that the universe has served Meraktis a platter of cosmic payback.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Deston asked seriously.

"We assumed that Meraktis ran into Phoenix because he was stressed out about something to do with the case but…" Ema thought over the details, "…he used Mr Eldoon's cart to transport the body _because _his car wouldn't start… Which means he didn't have anything to be stressed about because the whole incident with Tiala hadn't happened then."

Deston nodded. "It does seem to much of a coincidence that he would just happen to be involved in a hit and run with Phoenix after having scribbled his name on here." He looked at it again. "This bill's the latest too."

"Why would Mr Wright's name be on this bill?" she asked.

"Look closely, Ema," Deston instructed her. "It's a bill for his cell phone." Sure enough there were several columns detailing numbers, dates, times and who they were placed to.

"Why the hell would – "

"Look," Deston said again, pointing to another page. It was the second page of the bill and next to one of the cell numbers was an arrow with a small annotation: _Cass #2_.

"Hmm." Deston turned back to the safe and Ema looked to see what he was doing. He nudged at the box that the files had been placed upon.

"You can pull it out," Ema said. "It's full of – oh!"

Deston raised an eyebrow at her but Ema ignored him; she pushed past him and yanked the box out, throwing it open on the table. She pulled aside the snapshots of criminals, more letters and then she finally came to the cassettes inside. Deston whistled.

"The old boy made it a little easy didn't he?" Deston said.

"I suppose he didn't think anybody would get inside unless they killed him," Ema muttered distractedly rummaging through its contents. "I went through this before and I was planning on listening to them but I – aha!" She pulled out a case with a cassette inside and thrust it at Deston who scrutinised it. On the side it said _#2 – 5/27_.

"The date matches the day of the call," Ema said comparing. "Which means this is probably a recording of the call."

"I have a funny feeling we'll find something about Phoenix on there," Deston said nodding and looking around the office. "It's too weird that Phoenix's name happens to be on the bill."

Ema was puzzled. They'd come here hoping to find leads on the crime ring but ended up getting involved in yet another mystery. She was sure that her head would start spinning soon.

"Here," Deston said and slammed something in front of her, making her jump. "Sorry," he smiled when he saw her glare. He slipped the cassette inside the player and pressed a button which clicked back up, signalling that it needed rewinding. He moved a finger to the rewind button and pressed it.

"What do you think this is about?" Ema asked turning to her friend whose face looked uncharacteristically grim.

"Kristoph Gavin," he said and Ema shivered at the coldness with which he spoke the name. She hadn't expected the answer but somehow it didn't surprised her in light of what Deston had told her. She shook her head to try and clear it of all the confusion then looked at him again, unexpectedly feeling awed by him as a thought struck her.

"What?" he said, seeing her look.

She shook her head sheepishly. "I would have never been able to put it together like that so quickly," she said, thinking over the quick connections he'd made within the space of a few minutes. It really was remarkable and she now understood why he was respected among his peers.

Deston smile comfortingly. "It's my job to look for connections. I look for them everywhere even in places where there aren't any. I do read into things a little bit too much at times but better safe than sorry, I say. I'm going on a very random assumption that a name on a bill is somehow linked to the recording."

Ema frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"There's no way to tell when the name was written, is there?" Ema shook her head. "But it's almost like a label, don't you think? It's a long shot but it's as if it's marking this bill as having some connection to Phoenix." When Ema remained confused, Deston paused. "Okay, think about it like this. He had this bill in the safe. Why would he just pull it out to write Phoenix's name on it unless there was some connection between the two?"

"But what if he put the bill in the safe _because _it had Phoenix's name written on it?" Ema asked.

"The rest of his bills were in there too," Deston pointed out. "So I'm assuming he kept them in there because he didn't want anyone seeing the numbers of the people he was in touch with."

"Yeah you're right." Ema nodded slowly. "But that means that you can scan these numbers to see who they belong to right?"

"Yeah. Right now, I'm interested in this though."

Right on cue, the button popped up indicating that the cassette had been fully rewound. They both looked at each other and Deston reached out to press the play button. They waited impatiently as nothing but soft rustles and beeps followed. Ema twiddled the volume button wondering if the sound was on and just then a voice boomed in the room, making her jump again. Deston instantly reached out to turn it down and they listened.

" – _taking the medicine I gave you, you'll be fine. It might cause side-effects but it's to fight off infections." _

"That's Meraktis," Ema whispered.

Another voice – a man's – responded and it was unfamiliar; soft, cultured and smooth.

"_Thank you, Dr Meraktis. Father and I appreciate your help."_

"_You're welcome."_

"_Now, to the other matter we discussed. I believe we asked you to proceed with it as ra– " _

"_Wait! I know I agreed to do this but… well, why me? I have nothing to do with the man! Why don't you send someone else to just so – "_

"_Dr Meraktis. He lives the closest to you. Nobody will suspect a respectable man such as yourself. We're not asking for much. We're also willing to pay you for it. Are you incapable of carrying out such a simple task?"_

"_N-no! I am! I can! I just wondered why…"_

"_Don't wonder or wander, Doctor. Just do as we ask… please. Father will be most pleased should you succeed in sending Mr Wright on his merry way."_

"_O-of course. I'll do that."_

"_Swiftly, if you please. We don't like to wait and we would appreciate a quick and easy kill."_

"_How do I…?"_

"_The method is entirely up to you. Our only request is you do it soon."_

"_O… Okay."_

"_Please don't make us ask again, Doctor. We prefer not to repeat ourselves."_

"_I won't… I mean, I'll do it."_

"_Good day to you. I hope business continues to thrive."_

"_Th – thank you."_

There was rustling again and then the tape became silent. Deston and Ema continued to listen but there was no more. With trembling fingers she reached forward to press the stop button as she took shallow breaths and tried to calm herself. Hysterics wouldn't help her case and it was unprofessional… still, these thoughts didn't calm her racing heart.

"That wasn't Kristoph, was it," she asked dully without looking at him.

"No."

She turned to face him and her fear for Phoenix exploded. Deston looked grave and she knew he was wishing the same thing she was – at least, if it had been Kristoph, they would know who they were trying to protect Phoenix against. This faceless enemy seemed twice as dangerous. For one, they had no idea why he – and his father – wanted Phoenix dead. For another, his calm, polite manner showed them this was a man completely in control, a man who knew what he wanted. They recognised the attitude; though rare, Ema and Deston had both experienced these types of killers.

And only one of two things stopped them: their death… or the death of their target.


	11. Refuge

Refuge

It was dark when Deston's car came to a halt before his large home. He followed Ema until she was safely inside the house and paused at the doorway. When she turned to him with a frown upon hearing his footsteps cease, he nodded towards his car.

"I have to go," he said unsmilingly and it was mark of how alarmed he was. "I need to get back. I'm going to try and get the results on those documents ASAP."

"Do you want me to – ?"

Deston shook his head. "You're safer here and Klavier should be home soon." He must have misinterpreted the look of concern on her face because he jerked his thumb towards the officers several yards away, some of whom were leaning against their cars. "Two Gavinners for friends? They know better than to let anything to happen to you." He gave her a half-hearted smile. "Don't worry, Em. It's all going to be fine."

She nodded, knowing that she was probably better off here. There was nothing she could do by accompanying him except to maybe slow him down.

"Take care, Des," Ema said softly. "Let me know when you hear anything."

Deston nodded. "Close the door, babe. I'll leave once I hear the lock click in place."

Ema sighed, too exhausted to bother with a scowl. "Okay."

"Em?" Deston said and Ema paused, the door halfway closed, and looked at him. He opened his mouth as if about to say something and then closed it again. She smiled tiredly to which he responded in kind. Unexpectedly, he moved forward and pulled her in a gentle hug, reassuringly. Ema hugged him back and sighed, feeling mentally exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to just lie down and forget everything she'd learnt today.

"Don't worry, okay?" Deston said, pulling back a little to look into her face. "Everything's going to be fine."

She stared back at him wordlessly and as she looked into his tired gray eyes, she realised that he was handling far more work than her, he was taking all of the weight of this burden and he was working day and night while looking out for her, Klavier and now Phoenix – while knowing he was in danger himself.

"You better take care, Deston," Ema said sternly, pulling away. "I need a Snackoo target."

He winked at her and then stepped out once again, gesturing towards the door. Once the lock 'clicked into place', Ema moved to the window and saw Deston walking towards his car, glancing over his shoulder once and waving when he saw her standing at the window. Then, with another sigh, she walked to her room without bothering to switch on the light; she was trying to rid herself of the thoughts pressing down on her mind. She knew she needed rest because tomorrow she was going to go into the office and thoroughly examine the contents of that box one by one. She had several tapes to look through, snapshots to identify and much much more. She needed her rest.

But, as she threw her bag on the bed and removed her shoes and coat, Ema couldn't help wondering how many damn people were after Phoenix. She knew that there were several prisoners who wanted to get their hands on him because he'd been the one to land them there but that's exactly where they were – still there. So who on the outside wanted him dead? And why?

She slipped out of her clothes and into a large t-shirt. Her fingers curled in her hair as she released it from its upright position and it fell about her smoothly. It was a habit born of her childhood; a memory of a better time. She smiled humourlessly. She thought she'd had problems when she was young. The web she was tangled in now had initially seemed as dark as the one she'd been thrust in after the SL-9 case but now… Now, it was in a league of its own.

There were so many more lives at risk and the number was increasing at an alarming rate; the attacks on herself, possibly Klavier, the danger Deston was in and now Phoenix. Who knew what else would happen? Finding out what she had about Phoenix's 'unintentional' accident with Meraktis had opened her eyes to one terrifying possibility: that there were things going on that she'd missed, logic that she'd misplaced and information she'd lacked due to her laziness. If Deston hadn't had noticed the links, they might never have found out Phoenix was in danger until it was too late.

And Ema knew he was – she'd heard the calm, professional tone of the man. Meraktis' death wouldn't stop him. He would simply have somebody else try again.

But how to defeat the faceless?

How could you shoot down a target you couldn't see?

She fell backwards onto her bed and a hand crept into the confines of her bag. When she felt the smooth texture of the packet as its insolent, crackling noise filled the room, Ema pulled out what was left of her Snackoos. Her fingers curled around a couple of them and she brought them to her mouth as she stared at the dark ceiling.

_Calm yourself down and think thoroughly, _she told herself. _You need to be composed otherwise you're going to miss significant details when it's most important. You're going to make a mistake and one of these days, it's going to cost someone their life._

She took a deep breath.

_C'mon. Cool it Skye. Just take a deep breath and –_

The sound of a door slamming made her jump and she sat up instantly, her jaw clenched around what was left of the snacks in her mouth. She took hesitant steps towards her door and just as she was about to open it to peek outside she realised how ridiculous she was being. It was probably Klavier. Nobody else could have got in here without some gunfire or shouting – neither of which she'd heard.

She relaxed and her mouth began to work around the remains of the Snackoos again. Ema frowned, realising that the force with which the door had banged was a little unusual.

"Fop," she grumbled and her hand curled around the door knob. _I'm going to give him a piece of my mind_, she thought as she stepped out and made her way down the hall. What the hell was he thinking, acting like a Neanderthal?

Just as she entered the large entrance room however, the complaint disappeared as if it had never been. There he was, sat on the sofa with his hands digging into his hair and curled around his head as if he was trying to protect it against something. She'd only seen him like that once – when Daryan had been brought to trial. Instantly, worry flooded her and she took a step toward him as all thoughts of walking away left her.

"Klavier?" she said softly. She saw his head rise from its place in his hands and his posture straightened. She waited for him to look at her but he didn't; he was so still that he could have been carved out of ice and were it not for the strange feeling radiating off him, she might have believed that's all he was – a statue. Ema wavered, unsure all of a sudden.

_Pull yourself together. Be strong… for him._

Why isn't he turning around? Should I just leave? Should I wa –

_No! Stay. Wait. Be patient. _

So she did. When he rose to his feet, she saw him pause as if he was uncertain of what to do. She expected him to turn around and look at her but still, his back remained turned. As the silence stretched on, her worry grew. What was wrong with Klavier? What had happened? Her eyes ran over his frame for a sign of anything that might be wrong but his clothes were intact if a little creased. His hair was dishevelled from having been dug into with his fingers. There was no sign of any physical harm. No, it was just the way he was stood… so rigid and unyielding.

She wanted to move forward and touch him. She wanted to put her hand on his back to let him know she was here. That need to transfer her love into him rushed through her again and she shifted, uncomfortable with just standing there. She wanted to do something to help him, to smooth out the inflexibility of his body. She couldn't take it. She couldn't just stand there and wait for him to do or say something.

"Are you okay?"

There was no answer. He was facing the front door he'd recently walked through and cold swept over her as she wondered if he was thinking about walking away from her. What if, without a response, he walked right back out of that door? What would she do then? Follow him?

_Will I be able to follow him? _

She knew that if he walked away she would be hurt. It would sting for him to walk away the one time she was willing to stay near him.

"Klavier?"

The lack of response discouraged her yet she needn't have worried; slowly but surely, he turned to look at her and her heart seemed to stop for a second – before breaking into a run. Within seconds those deep blue eyes were fixed on her but her attention of his most breathtaking feature lasted for a tick before it switched to the emotions burdening it. She would have gasped were it not for the fact that she was frozen – his eyes were filled with grief, clear as day, mingled with angry desperation. Ema felt a sharp pain in her chest. Her body grew cold and warm instantly, as though a frozen knife had pierced her heart, letting out a river of crimson tears to run over the most sensitive nerves of her body.

She watched him speechlessly as he swept her with those sorrowful eyes and she felt herself grow self-conscious despite herself. When he met her stare again, his mouth seemed to lift at the corner and she was confused at the way that little movement contradicted the look in those twin seas drowning her. Suddenly, they fixed on one spot on her face and her hand lifted of its own volition to touch her face.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked and a different kind of warmth spread across her cheeks.

_Why am I worrying about myself when I… should… be…_

Her thought died an instant death as he moved toward her with all of the grace of a tiger and then he was before her, his fingers gently pulling her hand away from her face.

"Been snacking have we, Fräulein?" he whispered as he stroked her wrist and she shivered inwardly, unable to look away. Somewhere, in some part of her mind, she recognised that something was odd about his remark. How did… he… know…?

It didn't matter. He was sweeping all of her features; from lips to eyes and over her cheeks. She felt her heart speed up. Without warning, he pulled her close and although she simply landed against him, she felt as though she was still falling, the flames of the inferno closing in and licking at her body.

The first thing she thought was that she needed to get away from him and the adrenalin began to build for the moment that she would do it.

But then something stopped her. She didn't know what it was; the memory of Tessa's words, the soulful look in his eyes or just her own desire to remain in this overpowering… heaven.

Because that's what he was fast becoming for her.

"Did you leave me any?" he murmured.

She was hearing him speak but none of it made sense. With every word that left his mouth, wrapped in the velvet of his voice, he made tiny rips in her being. She was unable to move, unable to stop listening. She could only feel; feel his moving chest as he spoke, feel his breath as he exhaled, feel his eyes as they raked her lips. She was sure he'd be able to hear the increasing rate of her heart as it began to ram itself against her ribcage. She waited for him to laugh at the way her body was going crazy but then, as if to reassure her, he lifted her hand and pressed it to his chest. His palm engulfed hers and she felt herself beginning to melt at the heat of his skin as it burned through his shirt. She could feel his heart beating so fast, she thought it could have been humming.

"I will take that as a no," he said in a low voice and she wondered momentarily, what question he was assuming the answer to. The thought was chased from her mind as his fingers ran across her lips and she felt something rough rub against her skin. When he raised his hand, she saw crumbs stuck to the tips and she blushed, cursing herself for her Snackoo obsession.

"I suppose I have to make do with this, _mein liebe_," he whispered and Ema stopped breathing. She felt the light-headedness that signified she was about to lose all her senses. He leaned in, never breaking eye contact, and touched his lips to hers gently, softly brushing them together, light as a feather. She felt his tongue move across her mouth, dipping in between her lips when they parted.

His arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her in so there was no more space left. She was moulded around him and he around her and she didn't know where she ended and where he began. Still, he did nothing but rub his lips against hers, their mingled breaths a perfume that was driving her crazy and destroying her inhibitions.

Suddenly, Ema knew she had two choices – she could kiss him. She could wrap her arms around him and just kiss him and let him kiss her and give in to the wealth of emotions thrust upon her. She felt so lost, yet so centred; so confused, yet so certain that all the answers in the universe lay within her reach. How could she feel all of this without consequence?

Which paved the way for the second option, the option that made the most sense…

"_Ema…_" he breathed against her mouth and the sound of his voice, the vibrations of his lips against hers robbed her of the last shred of sanity she had left. Whatever she'd been thinking was eradicated and now only one thing was echoing in her head:

_Let him love you._

She was intoxicated by the nearness of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. He was chasing away every last drop of insecurity and fear leaving behind nothing but a need and a deep abiding love that wanted nothing more than… _him. _Uncaring of making a fool of herself, she threw her arms around his neck and stepped on tiptoe, pressing as much into him as she could, wishing she could merge with him. She pressed her lips to his in a long awaited kiss that demonstrated all of her love and passion and need and support.

He was kissing her back with all of the gentleness of a lover and as it deepened, his hands slid down her body, following the curves of her hips, down, around, and back up. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her into his arms and she felt him move. When he pulled back slightly to look at her; his eyes were dark with desire and her chest constricted painfully. Her breathing was getting ragged but she couldn't look away from him, afraid it would shatter something that had built between them.

She felt herself settled into something soft and his weight followed, relieving an ache she didn't understand. He lifted himself so that he wasn't suffocating her but their bodies still touched, his frame still covered her. His mouth was everywhere now, his kisses sending tingles down her body as he continued down her neck pushing her t-shirt aside to reveal more of her skin. She gripped his shoulders; she could feel his hands scaling down her body, starting wildfires on her skin.

What was happening to her? It felt so good to relinquish her precious control to this man, so full of power and presence, so unattainable and impossible that she should have given in to the need to run in the opposite direction the moment they were alone. Instead, she wanted nothing more than to stay there forever in his arms.

His mouth was back to hers and his kiss was more fierce this time and she knew it would be embedded in her memory forever; their hearts were beating in one rhythm, their tongues dancing around one another, their lips merged, locked. Every sound dissolved until all that was left was the sound of their breathing quickening in search of air.

But in the midst of the intoxication, Ema sensed a desperation in him, in the way he moved against her, the way he kissed her and the way he touched her like he needed to know she was there in his arms. The desperation of a man that had run miles and miles hunted by a predator and had fallen into the arms of a protector. A man who wanted to lose himself.

"Klavier," she gasped, pushing against his chest gently. Instantly, he lifted himself a little and looked into her face. He was dazed but concerned and she almost smiled at his anxiousness. She wanted to tell him that she wouldn't push him away this time, that she was here for him now but she didn't. Instead, her hand sashayed down his cheeks and over his full, seductive lips. She traced the outline of his nose up to his eyebrows and across to his temple then back down to his jaw. His skin was so smooth it was like silk over steel. Her fingertips journeyed to the other side smiling at the stubble she felt. Her hand stopped next to his eyes which were fixed steadily on her and it took everything she had to stop herself from just pulling him down and kissing him, just kissing him until all of the dark sorrow faded from them.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, smoothing his hair away from his forehead.

His only answer was to continue staring at her. She waited patiently, wondering what he could be thinking. Unexpectedly, he rolled off her and disappointment began to grow until she felt herself being pulled with him. He crushed her to him in a tight embrace and he dropped a kiss to her temple.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered and there was such desperation and anguish in his voice that her throat closed up with tears. She wished she knew why those emotions were ripping into the satin feel of voice but she didn't ask. He would tell her when he was ready and even if she didn't understand his distress , she understood one thing – something had happened; something that had ripped away his smiling mask and torn it into a million pieces.

_Let him love you._

So Ema rested her head on his shoulder and placed her hand on his chest, over his heart, hoping that he would understand she would do anything for what beat inches beneath her fingers. She kissed his cheek.

"I'm here for you," she whispered. Klavier looked at her again and she felt a little better when the burden in his eyes lifted a little.

"Thank you, Ema," he murmured, settling his cheek against her forehead. His arms tightened around her and his body pulled her in, enveloping her in its warmth.

She would stay for as long as he needed.

Though Klavier held her with his arms, she held him with her heart – and she hoped that the power of her embrace could exorcise him of the demons that tortured him. She hoped that by the time the morning came, his sorrow would be chased away, just as the darkness by light.

She hoped that the next time she looked at him, she would see her soul reflected in his eyes.


	12. Less Thunder, More Lightning

Less Thunder, More Lightning

Klavier left the house just before dawn broke. He'd fallen asleep fully clothed so all he'd had to do was slip Ema out of his arms, splash some cold water on his face and run a hand through his hair. Then, he'd driven straight to his office.

He had two reasons for going into work on a Saturday morning: one being that he was afraid of Ema's reaction when she woke up. He was swept away with the vivid memory of her kiss but it was overshadowed by his own feelings – she'd seen his state and he had a feeling she wouldn't have done what she did if he'd not been so upset. Klavier didn't know how he felt about that and he didn't really want to think about it either. He was giving her a choice. She could pretend as though nothing had happened. But if she didn't want to…

He shook his head. He didn't want to get his hopes up.

Still, a little voice inside of him whispered traitorously; what if she got the wrong idea? What if she woke up to think he'd left because he regretted what had happened?

"That is madness," he muttered. "She knows how I feel." He nodded to himself reassuringly. Yeah, he would just tell her he had to go into work urgently – which bought him to the second reason for his early start.

Klavier didn't remember if he'd dreamt something – all he remembered was waking up to find an idea lodged quite firmly in his mind. Mr and Mrs Rainsford may not have been willing to give Klavier the whereabouts of their son but that didn't mean he couldn't still find out. He smiled with satisfaction as he remembered the useful piece of information that Mr Rainsford had let slip.

"Detective Jones," Klavier said, walking up to one of the desks in Criminal Affairs and the man in question turned to face him.

"Sir," Jones said with a nod of the head.

"I need you to find someone for me," Klavier said as he picked up a pen from the desk and scribbled David's name on one of the square sheets of paper lying around. Beneath it he wrote the companies name. He held it up to Jones who instantly plucked it from in between his fingers. "David Rainsford is the son of the owner and I believe he is managing one of the branches of the business."

"Yes sir," Jones said obediently and Klavier watched him scribble some of the details beneath the names. "How quickly do you need to have him found?"

"It is of the utmost urgency, Detective," Klavier said gravely and he saw the other man's eyes widen a little. No doubt, he was surprised at the seriousness of Klavier's tone. "I wish to have him found immediately. There must be no delay. If you have anything else that needs to be done now, reassign it to someone else. You may tell them it is upon my orders you are doing so."

"Yes sir," Jones said instantly. "I'll get on it now."

Klavier nodded. "_Danke _Detective," he said as he watched the young man fall into his chair and start tapping away at the keyboard of his computer instantly. The prosecutor headed for his office where he slammed the door shut. He knew people were starting to wonder why he'd taken to keeping it closed now but he was too used to rumours and whispers of the media to care what anyone said. He made his way towards his chair but he'd barely taken two steps before there was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he called over his shoulder as he approached his chair. When he finally settled in it, he turned towards his visitor and found Deston closing the door behind him.

"_Guten morgen,_" Klavier said trying to ignore the twinge of guilt he felt at the sight of his friend. He knew Deston wouldn't throw punches if he knew Klavier had spent the night with Ema but his loyalty to him had been compromised. If it had been anyone but Ema he would have stayed away from her… but it _was _Ema and he _couldn't _stay away from her.

"Hey," Deston greeted and Klavier frowned at the grave expression on his face. His frown further deepened when he saw the dark circles under his friends eyes. He looked tired and his own experience with late nights told Klavier that Deston hadn't been home all night.

"You look rough, Deston," Klavier said, watching him drag a chair across the room until it was in front of him. "Have you not slept?"

The Gavinners drummer rubbed his eyes as he sank into it and shook his head. "I had some stuff to do and it couldn't wait."

"Any leads on the crime ring?" Klavier asked, his thoughts darkening. He hated that he was unable to help in finding the people who had tried to hurt Ema but he knew that he couldn't compel Deston into telling him everything. So he'd forced himself into pushing it to the back of his mind and focus on his own investigation.

"I don't know," Deston said with a sigh. "It's hard to tell if anything's related when you're chasing a ghost."

"I do not understand why you are doing field work," Klavier said. "You are in CJIS. Your job is to analyse and supply information only."

"I got a promotion a few months ago," Deston said. "The DEA knew I had some field experience and a lot of information from my CJIS time so I got pulled into their little club."

Klavier raised an eyebrow. "I do not know whether to congratulate you or not."

Deston laughed. "It's all good. I'm just a super-informed DEA agent. Not much to congratulate really but thanks."

"Try not to get your head blown off. We have a band to maintain."

"I'm touched by your concern, man," Deston said with a laugh.

"That aside, congratulations," Klavier said, smirking. "I'm sure you are a _valuable _addition to any agency."

"I'm going to ignore that sarcasm, Gavin. So, thanks and thanks," Deston said and Klavier laughed. "Anyway, I needed to talk to you about something." He looked up then and the seriousness of his gaze piqued Klavier's interest.

"Ja," Klavier nodded. "What is it?"

"It's Ema," Deston said and Klavier froze. Did he know about…? No, that was stupid. How would Deston know how Klavier felt? Unless Ema had told him… _Don't be stupid_, he told himself. _You just left Ema and she was asleep…_

"What about Ema?" Klavier asked coolly and he hoped against hope that his prosecutor's face would hide his emotions. It worked on the masses but he wasn't faced with a stranger – Deston had known him almost as long as Daryan and trying to hide anything from him was no easy task.

"I saw both your bandages, Klavier," Deston said and Klavier recognised the tone of his voice – he wasn't going to play dumb this time. He grimaced. "Ema was pretty upset yesterday and while I don't know what happened, I do know something happened between you two. Whatever it is, sort it out."

"Are you warning me against approaching her romantically?" Klavier said with a raised eyebrow and Deston's own shot up in surprise.

"No," Deston said. "Ema is free to be with whoever she wants."

Klavier was taken aback with the openness of Deston's response. He knew that Deston was an easy-going guy but he'd never expected him to be so… _okay _about Ema dating someone else. He cocked his head to the side and he suddenly felt as though he was missing something, as if there was something he didn't know about.

"Are you two…?" Deston asked.

"_Nein_," Klavier said hastily. He didn't want Deston to assume anything when he himself was unsure about where he stood with Ema. "I was merely curious as to your intentions for this discussion. What exactly do you think is going on, Deston?"

"You tell me."

Klavier shrugged, looking straight at his friend and he tried his best to inject some confusion into his gaze. "I am confused."

Deston didn't answer straight away. He sighed instead and looked away, clapping his hands on his thighs as he spoke. "You're not an idiot, K. I know you wouldn't do anything stupid…" Klavier was momentarily amused when he saw Deston's gaze flicker towards his bandaged hand sceptically. If it wasn't for the fact that admitting to the truth would cause so much concern, he would have told his friend just to see his reaction. "So all I'm going to say is, whatever's going on between you and Ema, sort it out. She's already getting enough attention from the media because of me and you, don't add to – "

"Me?" Klavier frowned. "Why me?"

Deston shook his head in exasperation. "Haven't you seen or read…? Actually, forget that. You don't read the trash they write about you."

This was true. He'd stopped caring what they printed about him not long after his rise to fame. When he'd seen what reading the crap the tabloids had done to a fellow celebrity, he'd sworn never to pay attention again. "What are they saying about me and Ema?"

"It's nothing major," Deston said. "Right now they're just printing nonsense springing from the fact that we're friends and you and she have worked on more cases than is normal."

"As if they would know what is normal in a police agency," Klavier snapped.

"Yeah. Anyway, she doesn't say anything but I'm sure she's having a hard time of it." He fixed Klavier with an unusually stern glare. "Just don't add to it by doing something stupid, K."

"And what kind of stupid do you mean?" Klavier asked coldly. His anger, which was increasingly close to the surface these days, began to rise again but Deston was on his feet and walking to the door.

"The kind that would upset her," Deston said as he pulled it open. "If you haven't already, go to her and sort it out." He paused and turned to Klavier, his face serious again. "She's already going through so much, Klavier. At least lift this from her mind."

"I do – "

"She's only human, K," Deston interrupted. "And she's more fragile than she seems."

And before Klavier could say anything, Deston was gone leaving the young prosecutor wondering what the hell he was doing sitting around in his office when he should have been there to see Ema Skye open her eyes.

* * *

The water moved in and around Ema's feet, encasing it in its silken coolness. Her eyes followed the fingers of the sea as they unwound and travelled back to their master and she looked out to the horizon where the sun had risen. It was nature's oxymoron – to see the sun rise over the bed of blue. Fire versus water. She'd often wondered which was the least painful – death by burning or drowning. She had always the latter to be the lesser of the two. It didn't particularly take long and there was only way to die in water. Fire on the other hand, gave many more options. If one was to inhale the fumes before the fire hit, unconsciousness would take over and what happened next wouldn't register but if she was in, say, a car crash… she shuddered at the thought of her skin melting off her while she was still conscious and able to feel pain…

Yet, that was kind of what she was feeling. It was in her chest, this burning, suffocating feeling that was clawing at a part of her that had been hurting ever since she'd awoken. Ema had slowly stirred in bed and instantly remembered where she was… or rather where she'd fallen asleep. She'd been afraid of opening her eyes and looking to see if Klavier was still there. Having spent several minutes telling herself that he was going to be there and she was just being paranoid, she'd finally summoned the courage to turn over and look, finding nothing but emptiness. He was nowhere to be seen.

So here she was, an hour later, still reprimanding herself for being ridiculous enough to think she meant enough for him to want to stay by her side. She chided herself for not going with her first instinct. Of course he'd said he loved her. She wasn't angry at him for it. After all, he was a rock-star and that's what rock stars did, didn't they? No, she was angry herself for letting herself fall for it. It was her own fault.

Never had she felt a more overwhelming need to tear our her heart and throw it into the sea where it could sink for good. At least that way she wouldn't have to deal with it sinking and rising with hope once more, only to sink again.

Ema's hands tightened around the sandals she was carrying in her hand as she fought against the urge to pull out her phone, ring Lana and ask her to pick her up and take her far away. She wanted to go to a place where the names Klavier Gavin and the Gavinners were the equivalent to gobbledygook. She wanted to run away even though she knew it wouldn't really solve anything.

"Thank God it's Saturday," Ema mumbled. "I can try and stay out of his way."

"Whose way, Fräulein?" a voice behind her asked and Ema's body was torn between freezing and jumping out of her skin with the result that she half turned and made a low sound of surprise. However, before she could get her scattered thoughts back in order, his arm wound around her waist from behind and she saw the most ridiculous sight before her eyes: his hand at level with her face and in it he held a flask half filled with water, housing 3 roses; one red, one pink and one white.

"I hope this will attain me some forgiveness," Klavier whispered in her ear.

Ema didn't know what to think. Her mind was still in shock and she dazedly took the flask from him. How the hell had this happened? Here she'd been depressing over…

"I am sorry, Ema," Klavier continued and he turned her gently until she was facing him and he put a finger under her chin, lifting her face so he could look at her. "I had some urgent business to attend to otherwise I would have been there when you woke up."

"Would you?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them but this time she held her expression firmly. This time, she knew her question was justified and when Klavier's eyes clouded with guilt, Ema felt some of the heat in her chest dissipate.

"Ema…" Suddenly he'd pulled her into a hug and he was murmuring something in German she couldn't make out. The flask she was holding almost slipped from her hand and she jerked her arm to stop it from falling. Klavier, misinterpreting the move, let go of her and looked at her warily. In that moment that she saw the hint of insecurity, Ema's anger disappeared and she gave a reluctant smile.

"A flask?" she questioning glancing at it. "Don't roses come in more… traditional vases?"

Klavier chuckled and Ema watched his manicured fingers sweep across the petals before he turned back to her. "You deserve more than tradition, Ema."

She blushed. To hide this embarrassing fact, she ducked her head so that her hair shielded her face.

"You like your scientific equipment," Klavier said with a smile. "I knew you'd appreciate this…" he touched the flask gingerly and Ema felt a jolt go through her when his skin brushed against hers, "…much more."

Ema shrugged non-committally, not knowing where her confidence was coming from but she was grateful for it. She made pretence of studying it and then glanced at Klavier who was staring at her intently, a smile playing around his lips.

"Why have you got three different colours?" she asked.

"I was hoping you would ask me that," Klavier said. "Do you know what these colours symbolise?" He touched the roses again and Ema shook her head. He flashed his rock-star grin at her. "You can have fun finding out. A clue: it does not require any chemicals so please do not torture these poor flowers."

Ema rolled her eyes. "I wasn't going to." She felt touched at his thoughtfulness which was accompanied by a healthy dose of curiosity. When she opened her mouth to ask about the colours, only two words came out: "Thank you."

"Does this mean I am forgiven?" Klavier asked. Ema simply shot a reluctant smile at him and began to walk, and he followed.

"What was so urgent that you had to go into work on a Saturday?" she asked.

She suddenly felt his whole demeanour change. It was tense and… sad? The reminder of last night made her frown. Though she hadn't asked, Ema had wondered what could have broken through his iron mask and reduced him to such a state. She had an inkling her question had just hit upon it.

"I met a woman not too long ago," Klavier said and slipped his hands into his pockets. "She saved my life."

Shock flashed through her and along with thousands of scenarios jumbled together as she imagined a situation in which a woman could have saved Klavier Gavin's life.

"She was murdered." Ema heard the sorrow that crept into his voice and she was surprised at the intensity of it. Her paranoia started conjuring the beautiful woman that might have once held his heart – she couldn't help but notice the faraway look in his eyes, the way his entire being was tense.

"The man who killed her… He manipulated her and the man she loved." Ema let out a breath she'd been holding and she chided herself for focusing on her feelings and insecurity when Klavier was trying to tell her something. "The consequences of his actions are painful to say the least," Klavier said turning to her. "Not only did he murder her, the man she loved has so completely lost the will to live that he is in prison, falsely accused of aiding in her murder, and he does not care."

Ema looked down at the sand as the water swept towards her feet once more. She couldn't help but think that every love story she came across recently seemed doomed or stained with tragedy.

"Can't you find the killer?" Ema asked and was surprised when Klavier smiled darkly.

"He is in prison, Ema," he said, looking away.

Ema was confused. "Then what are you investigating?"

Klavier frowned as if contemplating whether or not he should tell her. "There is more to the case than it appears. I feel that something is missing and after she saved my life, it is the least I can do." He turned to Ema fully now and she was puzzled at the look in his eyes, unable to define it. "She came to me at a dark time, Ema. I do not think I would be alive if it was not for her."

Ema's felt herself go cold as the words finally sunk in – _Klavier had almost been taken away from her. _She didn't know when it had happened or the circumstances but she fully appreciated the meaning. If it hadn't been for the woman he spoke of, she probably would never have met him and if it had happened after Ema had met Klavier…

"It is more than just a need for justice, Ema," Klavier continued. "I have to find out what happened to her. I want to know why she allowed herself to get pulled into danger so willingly."

Ema didn't understand what he meant and she had the feeling he was no longer talking to her but she listened in silence.

"I met her only once," Klavier said and Ema's eyebrows rose in question. He glanced at her and, seeing her expression, smiled wryly as he went on to explain. "It was the day she saved me. She was a stranger but…" Klavier sighed and Ema couldn't help but think there was more weight in it than she realised. She couldn't help herself; her hand came to rest on his arm comfortingly and he glanced at it for a moment before raising his eyes to hers, appreciation in his gaze.

"When I discovered she had been murdered…" He turned back to the horizon but Ema continued to stare at him. The sparkling sea reflected in his eyes like unshed tears and she was so lost in them that she almost forgot she wasn't staring at the ocean itself. _He's not crying, _her mind tried telling her fingers which were itching to touch his eyes. _Get a grip._

"I felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under my feet," Klavier said, his voice soft. "How could it be that her life would mean so little to him? It was incomprehensible that anybody would want to destroy a woman like her. It haunts me. She was a sister to a brother, a daughter to a parent… She was a friend, a lover and she could have been a parent too, one day. I barely knew her and I do not know how to mourn her. Every time I see her partner, I am disturbed by the look in his eyes. The prison cell they have unjustly locked him in is unnecessary; the real trap is in his mind. I see it suffocate him and, when I see the animal who took her life, I cannot understand how it is that the innocent suffers and the guilty continues to smile. How can the law punish a man who has no conscience? Even death is no punishment for him but it is the worst we can give him…"

Ema waited for him to go on but he didn't. Still confused, she had nothing to say to him because she didn't know the facts of the case. It didn't really matter though – all that mattered was that this woman had saved Klavier's life and Ema owed the faceless stranger more than she could give.

She dropped the sandals she held and her hand travelled down his arm, her fingers curling around his. He turned those soulful eyes on her again as his own entwined with hers.

"I cannot rest until I have found the answers, Ema," Klavier said quietly. "I feel the darkness of this case will consume me if I cannot find the truth."

"I know," Ema said with a small nod as a memory from the past flashed before her. "I understand."

"The problem is I have so much to uncover in such a short amount of time."

"Why?"

"I do not wish for the murderer to escape execution," Klavier said and she saw the hard set of his jaw. "I do not know what the consequences of the Jurist trial will be except that, should it prove successful, the death penalty will be removed from our system. I have no idea when the date is so I am needing to work as fast as possible."

Ema understood instantly. She knew that, as the one chairing it, Phoenix would choose a date and, because of their past, Klavier wouldn't approach him. Despite her feelings for both the men and her disapproval of Klavier's behaviour, she couldn't deny him the help she could give him. Her love for him aside, she owed it to the woman who had saved Klavier.

"I can find out for you," Ema offered in a firm voice hoping that Klavier wouldn't reject the idea. He looked up at her in surprise. "When is the execution date?"

When he didn't answer straight away, she worried that she had annoyed him. His expression gave nothing away; he was looking out at the sea blankly. She was just about to break the silence with something – anything – when he nodded and looked at her with a smile.

"_Danke _Fräulein," he said. "I would… appreciate that."

Ema sighed in relief. "I'll probably see him later on today so I can have an answer for you tonight."

He only nodded again and his eyes drifted back to the sea. She could see he was lost in his thoughts but some of the anxiety in his features had lessened and Ema was glad that she'd done something to help alleviate his stress. It was clear that this case meant a lot more to Klavier than was normal and she didn't blame him. After all, the victim had saved him. It was a testament of his gratitude that he'd acceded to letting her ask Phoenix about the date. She was pretty sure that, had he not been so emotionally involved in the case, Klavier would have rejected her suggestion.

"Ema," Klavier said and she looked at him, feeling a twinge of nervousness when she saw the solemnity of his expression. "I want to thank you for last night."

_Which part? For staying with you or kissing you...?_

Ema blushed as the thought ran through her and she looked at the flowers in her hand. She tried to pull her other hand out of his but he held on to it and pulled her a little closer, lifting her face so that it was tilted till she was looking up at him.

"You are like a poet… and I am your poem," he murmured, staring deep into her eyes. "You are… my only comfort."

He was doing it again – she wished he wouldn't dazzle her this way. Every time he looked at her with those clouded eyes, he tore down her defences. Whenever she focused on his mouth, Ema felt the presence of the void that was filled only with the delicious wine of his words as they spilled from in between his lips and seduced her heart.

"I will not promise you anything, Ema," Klavier whispered and she knew she should be alarmed by his words but something inside her trusted the sincerity of his gaze. "I will not offer anything to you either. I have nothing left to give because you have already stolen all of me."

His deep eyes were like stars now that were blinding her, his breath heating her and his voice drowning her in its welcome melody.

"I do not want any of it back either," Klavier said. "I would like you to keep it all so that if I was no longer here one day… if anybody were to search for me… they would find me in your eyes."

Her insides grew cold again and she found her voice. "Don't be rid – " she started but he put a finger to her lips, silencing her.

"In return, though, may I ask for something?" Klavier said.

Ema nodded slowly, unable to tear her gaze from his gentle face.

"Give me some part of you," he whispered. "Even if it is only the courtesy of a smile every morning…" he moved the finger over her lips and Ema's dizziness abated only to give way to an even stranger feeling. "Maybe a blush when I stare at you for too long…" His hand moved to run over her cheek. Ema was falling apart inside, melting into liquid fire and she didn't know what to do with herself. She didn't know whether to run or stand still, to sit or stand, to laugh or cry…

"Will you give me some part of you, Ema?"

There was no uncertainty in her thoughts now. The only thing she needed was to let him know how much she was willing to give to him without saying it – she had a feeling she wouldn't be able to do it properly. She looked around, her eyes roving over the sand, the sea, their joint hands and finally on the flask of flowers she was still clutching. As an idea came to mind, she turned to look at him again with an uncharacteristically tender smile. _He's an artist, _she told herself, _he'll understand._ So, she tightened her grip on his hand and led him to the water's edge.

"Take off your boots," she told him. Ema had expected him to question her but he simply flashed her a smile, removed his hand from hers and proceeded to do as she said. When he was barefoot, she tugged on his hand until he was ankle deep in the water with her.

"You do realise that, scientifically speaking, these flowers are already dead, right?" Ema asked him and Klavier chuckled. "Therefore, it's impossible to torture them."

Klavier simply looked at her with a curious expression and she smiled at him again. Then she lifted the red rose out of the flask and held it between them as she eyed the petals.

"I know that a red rose symbolises love," Ema said and she thought he twitched but she didn't look up to see his expression. "Doesn't it symbolise respect too?"

"Ja," Klavier said.

"You said you couldn't mourn your friend," Ema said quietly and she ignored the tension that had begun to emanate from Klavier again. "Maybe you just couldn't mourn her alone. Maybe you needed somebody else to mourn with you. Somebody who appreciates her as well." She turned to look at him and saw the confused look in his eyes. "I can be that somebody."

Surprise came to accompany his confusion and Ema smiled at him. "You must be wondering how I can appreciate someone I've never heard of until today."

Ema placed the flask down in between her feet and watched it for a moment as the water swept around it before straightening up, rose still in hand. She wrapped her fingers around the petals and pulled gently until they lay in her hands. She let the stem fall and separated the heap of red until she held some in both hands.

"I appreciate her because she saved you, Klavier," Ema said, turning to Klavier whose expression softened into an unusual one of vulnerability. She held one hand out to him and, as if understanding, he lifted the petals from her palm. "So I'd like to pay her my respects… with you."

He stared at her for a few seconds before Ema leaned down until the water was washing around her legs. Klavier followed suit until he was in the same position and she looked at him again with a small smile. He seemed to understand her intent because when she lowered her hand to the water, so did he. In that moment where the petals fluttered for a brief moment in the breeze before they touched the water, she turned her gaze to him again hoping he would know what she was trying to say: _you're not alone, Klavier_. Then, when her hand finally descended into the water, Ema watched the remnants of the rose, as they hovered uncertainly on the water before being swept out on their journey to the horizon.

The water continued its repetitive motion, backwards and forwards but neither felt any of the wetness they were falling prey to. Neither were worried that they may look like idiots, sat in the water as they were. Klavier and Ema were lost in their thoughts, thoughts of each other and the woman who had, inadvertently, brought them to this exact point. Both of them hoped they were the reason for the other's silence and neither of them secure enough to know it.

Ema only remembered that her hand was still underwater when something wrapped around it and she looked down quickly, alarmed, until she saw the bronze arm attached to it. She followed it back to its source and met with two azure depths.

"Thank you, Ema," he said and she knew he understood. She had meant to show him that blushes and smiles paled in comparison to this. She wanted to tell him – without words – that she wanted to give more to him… and she would if she could.

Suddenly, something brushed against her so softly that, were it not for the white object she saw out of the corner of her eye to confirm it, she might not have believed it to be anything. She turned towards it and found the white rose; Ema glanced over her shoulder and saw that the flask had tipped and both the remaining roses were drifting towards them. She lifted the one neared to her by the stem and glanced at Klavier who was smiling again.

"I do not think they appreciated being left behind," he said.

Without a reply, Ema lifted a hand to the petals to remove them too but Klavier's hand covered hers, stopping her. When she looked at him in surprise, he was staring at her.

"_Nein,_" he said. "I am sure you know what white symbolises."

"Ja," Ema mimicked him and when he chuckled, she grinned at him. "Of course I know, silly."

"I will not allow anybody to damage your purity," Klavier said gravely and she smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness although a little amused at how seriously he was taking it.

"Who's damaging it?" Ema asked but when he refused to move his hand, she sighed. "White also stands for pure love doesn't it?" He nodded slowly. "So would you rather let it stand, confined in some vase, and let it die?"

He hesitated. "Very well," he said but he lifted her hand away from the top, leaving the rose intact so that she was only holding it by its stem. His fingers moved around it too and he lowered their hands to the water where it escaped their joint fingers.

But Ema wasn't watching it this time; her gaze was fixed firmly on him.

There was something in his words that spoke volumes about his integrity but more so about his value of hers. Something in his touch told her of the strength of his respect but more so of the importance of hers. His heart whispered to her of his love but even more of his need for hers…

"Come," Klavier said, rising and holding a hand out to her. He helped her up and as they moved back towards the sand, Ema saw the pink one glide along the water smoothly.

"What does the pink one mean?" Ema asked curiously. She'd guessed the other two but the only thing she associated with pink were ponies and bimbos… and sometimes her glasses. She frowned at this realisation.

"Appreciation, gratitude, thankfulness… Happiness," Klavier replied and her eyes snapped to his. "It does not need anybody's hand or guidance. It will find its own way."

She thought he was going to pull her close and rob her of something else but he did the opposite – he let go of her suddenly and looked around as if searching for something.

"What are you looking for?" Ema said, watching him lean down and run his hand through it. In answer, he straightened and pulled out her flask, emptying it of water and held it out for her.

"For your most useful input during our investigations!"

"I hardly use a flask, Klavier," she said, taking it off him with a roll of the eyes, and he flashed his rock star smile at her.

"So I can have it back?" he asked reaching for it but she moved backwards with it, horrified and he laughed. "I thought so."

"That's not – "

"_Lana, get yourself back here right now!"_

Startled, Ema and Klavier turned towards the sound of the voice and saw a man running towards a little girl who was…

"Er…" Eyes wide, Ema started towards the young Lana, unsure of what to do. The girl had clearly decided she liked Ema's sandals because she'd slipped them on her own feet. She turned back to Klavier for some help but he could barely keep a straight face. The fop was standing there, his hands in his pockets and a smile that would get a hundred on the Fop Scale. Throwing him a scowl, Ema took a few more steps towards the girl who was ignoring everyone and tried to decide on what would be the best way to get her footwear back.

"_Lana!" _the man said, slowing down as he neared them and the girl finally looked up at him as he towered over her. Ema sighed with relief when she saw that she wouldn't have to deal with the kid. "What have I told you about running off on your – what in the world are you doing?"

"I like these," Lana said as she pointed down at the sandals, turning her feet this way and that. "Can I have them, Daddy?"

"What the – Lana! You can't just put on somebody else's stuff!" He turned to Ema with a sheepish smile. "These are yours, I take it?"

Ema nodded, uncertain of what to say. Suddenly, Klavier was beside her, an arm around her waist and a smile across his lips.

"It is alright," Klavier said and the young man looked at him in surprise. Ema wondered at the expression before remembering that Klavier had one of the most recognisable faces in the world. It was easy for her to forget his and Deston's fame when she spent so much time around them in a professional capacity. "Ema was only a little surprised."

"Take those off, baby," the man said. "And say sorry."

Ema had been observing the little girl who, she thought, was far too adorable to be real. She was like a doll; dark brown hair, plump rosy cheeks and pouted lips. She couldn't have been older than 6 or 7 and she was so slender that Ema was sure she would break at the slightest mishandling. Like her father, she looked Hispanic or Latino – Ema had never really been good at noting the difference between the two.

"I'm sorry," Lana murmured, taking off Ema's sandals and handing them back to her. She shuffled forward, holding them up for Ema who reached for them with a smile. As if to gauge her anger, Lana glanced up at Ema whose heart gave out completely – her eyes were so wide and innocent and pure that Ema wanted to just bend down and plant a kiss on her forehead.

"It's alright!" Ema reassured her and crouched down until she was face to face with the girl who was staring determinedly at the ground. "You know, I have an older sister who has the same name as you so I can't be annoyed with you. It would be like being annoyed with her!"

Lana appeared to take comfort in the fact because she smiled at Ema then, her eyes twinkling with joy. Ema loved kids for this reason – even though she wasn't always great around them – because they were so pure and honest in everything they did and said. There was no treachery to be found in their faces.

"Again, I'm sorry," the man said to Ema and Klavier. "Kids, y'know?"

"Don't worry," Ema said with a smile, glancing up at Klavier who was scrutinising the man. Curious, she turned back to the man. He was tall and handsome, with gentle eyes and a friendly face but aside from the recognition in his expression (to be expected, considering the glimmerousness of the Gavinners), there was nothing else.

Ema stood up and slipped on her sandals, glancing back and forth between the silent men before she extended a hand forward to Lana's father. "Ema Skye," she said. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." He smiled, shaking her hand. "Drake Sanders."

Ema's interest increased when she saw Klavier… _wince_? She turned to him and frowned when she saw the disbelieving shock disappear beneath his calm mask. He extended his hand too, as if nothing had happened, which Drake then clasped in his own.

"Klavier Gavin," he said unnecessarily. Drake smiled. "Your daughter is beautiful."

"Thank you," Drake said.

Ema watched as Klavier approached the girl and crouched so he was looking into her face. "Hi Lana," he said with a smile.

"Hi," she said and Ema smiled at her shyness; she refused to look at him.

"How old are you?" Klavier lowered his head further so he could look into her face but she was adamant about avoiding his gaze because her chin was now pressed firmly against her chest.

"Eight years old."

"Do you know what your name means?" Lana nodded slowly, staring down at the sand as she dug a hole in it with her toes. "Will you tell me?"

"It means calm as still waters," she said in a somewhat proud voice.

"That is a special name," Klavier said with a small laugh. "I bet you are just as special, Lana. You sound very grown up."

That obviously did the trick because just then, Lana rewarded him with a big smile and threw her arms around his neck. Ema's eyes widened in surprise for a moment and then she was giggling as Klavier laughed and hugged her back. Ema could feel another part of her crumble as she saw more and more of the man beneath the chains and rock music. Beneath it all was a man she had never considered, a man she hadn't thought could possibly exist. Somehow, she liked being proven wrong.

"I'm sorry," Drake said with a laugh as Lana pulled away from Klavier and ran back to her father. "She's very spontaneous sometimes."

"She is beautiful, Herr Sanders," Klavier said as he straightened.

"Yeah," Drake said looking down at her and running his fingers through her hair. "She is."

"Is her name significant somehow?" Klavier asked.

"Yeah," Drake said and the raise of his eyebrow made it clear he was wondering at the nature of Klavier's question. She herself was wondering the same thing.

Klavier chuckled and while it may have sounded natural to anyone else, Ema had seen enough of his mask to know there was something more to it. "She knows the meaning. I assumed you told her for a reason."

"Prosecutors," Ema said with a smile, jerking a thumb at Klavier. "They can't help themselves. They have to cross examine anyone and everyone they can get their hands on."

Drake chuckled and nodded, seemingly accepting it as a valid reason. "She's named after my sister," he said watching Lana run towards the water.

"I am sorry," Klavier said. Ema and Drake turned to him with a frown.

"What?" Drake said and she saw his disconcerted expression.

_What the hell is going on?_

"I have to go," Klavier added hastily and she fought to clear her face of the deepening frown. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Herr… Sanders. And your daughter too." He moved forward to shake hands with Drake again. "I hope to meet you again soon."

As Klavier picked up his boots from their spot and turned to walk past her, he shot her a strange look. Ema turned back to Drake who was staring after Klavier with a puzzled expression.

"I'm sorry, we have to get to work," she lied. "It was nice meeting you!" Drake smiled at her, inclining his head. "Bye Lana!" Ema called to the little girl who paused from her splashing around to wave.

Then, without a pause, she raced after Klavier who'd managed to put considerable distance between them and didn't seem to be slowing down. It was only when she called his name that he finally stopped. When he didn't turn around, Ema walked around him till she was standing before him and looking up into his face.

"Klavier, what…?"

Her question died in her throat when she saw the utter shock and confusion that had escaped from underneath his increasingly vulnerable mask. He was looking at her but not really seeing her and his lips were moving, whispering something. She listened intently to make out what he was saying.

"Three years ago… 2023… _Das habe ich nicht kommen sehen…_"

"Klavier!" Ema said a little louder. "What's going on?"

He didn't answer straight away and she wondered if he was paying attention to her. She waved the flask before his eyes but he continued to stare into her face, frozen.

"I think…" his voice was soft, as if he couldn't believe what he was about to say. "That you have just blessed my entire case."

"Huh?" was all Ema could say in response. She was so confused by his random comments that she was beginning to wonder if he hadn't gone crazy.

"Ema… the woman who saved my life was named Gale Sanders."

"Wh… Oh." Ema's eyes widened and she looked over his shoulder to the retreating figure of Drake and Lana. "You think that he's related to her?"

"He's her brother," Klavier said softly, sounding like he was still coming to terms with it. "Her brother…"

Ema suddenly understood the sudden apology he'd thrown at Drake and his inspection of the man. However, her logical mind kicked in and she shook her head, turning back to him.

"How do you know it's not just a coincidence?"

"Because of Lana," Klavier said and he shook his head, as if still in shock.

"His daughter?" Ema asked, confused. "What – ?"

"I don't think she's his daughter, Ema."


	13. The In Between

The In Between

'.'

Wind cannot put out this flame,

Burn, let it burn away at peace.

Redeem in the command of shame,

And find the power of release.

.'.

Water will not wash out the stain –

There lies not a sign of deceit.

Find the weakness in the chain,

Shake it, break it, for your defeat.

'.'

Blood does not hide and will not lie,

Step in it and leave your mark,

Look at Death now, look it in the eye,

Feel its hand as you embark.

.'.

Welcome to this world, enemy of man,

I have waited for you all this time,

It's time to end the game you began,

It's time to punish you for your crime.

* * *

The prison always smelled – the product of recirculated air in a prison housing almost twice as many inmates as it should hold. Klavier didn't like breaking of the rules but he figured that the stink and the tight spaces were a great sensory reminder of the despicable crimes committed by the residents. The more discomfort they had to endure, the better, in his opinion.

The warden looked up from his place at the desk when Klavier rapped on the door and entered his office. The man leaned back in his chair and looked at the prosecutor warily, probably sick to the sight of him, and Klavier might have smiled if he weren't here for such an important job.

"How can I help you today, Prosecutor Gavin?" the warden asked.

"I wish to discuss Rafael Rainsford," Klavier said moving forward. The warden gestured towards the chair but Klavier shook his head. "It is important to my case that all visits to him be restricted."

The warden leaned forward and clasped his hands together on the desk. "What case, Prosecutor?"

"The details are not important," he said curtly.

"I can't just stop him from receiving visitors," the warden said with a sigh. "You know the Prison Rules Act of 2019. It would be a breach of his right under Section 23 – "

"Section 23, sub-section _**b**_, also states that any relevant authority figure may, on the grounds of unsatisfactory behaviour, issue a restriction on any privileges enjoyed by inmates," Klavier interrupted. "Yes, Herr Warden, I know the PRA."

"What unsatisfactory behaviour?"

Klavier took a deep breath to stem his mounting suspicion. Surely the warden wasn't trying to protect Rafael – he was just trying to do his job properly. He just had to be patient.

He pulled out a sheet from the confines of the folder he was holding and dropped it on the desk. The older man picked it up and ran his eyes over it and when his eyebrows shot up in surprise, Klavier was sure that he wasn't corrupt after all.

"He's been smuggling stuff on this block?" the man said and Klavier could see his temper rising. He smiled inwardly.

"A thorough investigation revealed that Rainsford may have been responsible for Richards' death. Although we lack the evidence to prove it, we have plenty else to stand upon; he has also been coercing, smuggling and threatening several inmates as well as taking their privileges for his own," Klavier recited the offences listed in the document. "This," he held up another one which he also dropped on the desk, "is for his immediate relocation to a solitary cell where he will not communicate with anybody – this includes mail and telephone calls. He is forbidden to receive medical care and showering without visual supervision from an officer – and no officer is allowed to supervise Rafael for more than 3 days at a time. Furthermore, he is prohibited from venturing out to the courtyard or participating in the making or eating of food in the cafeteria. All of the restrictions are listed."

"Three days?" the warden repeated scrutinising the document. "You're telling me I'll have to find a new guard every 3 days? "

"It is to prevent any sort of understanding forming between him and the guards," Klavier explained. "Rainsford is a very dangerous criminal capable of compelling anybody. This will prevent any possibility of rule-breaking. Failure to comply will result in severe consequences."

"Don't worry, Prosecutor," the warden said, clearly not offended. "I'd be happy to comply with this. The son of a bitch needs to be controlled." He paused as his eyes ran over the document again. "It says here this is meant to last until his execution."

"That is right," Klavier said. "From now on, I will decide who visits him."

"I'll have this arranged straight away," the warden said as he stood and began to gather his things.

"Thank you," Klavier said with a nod. "I would also appreciate it if Simon Lowes were kept in solitary confinement until further notice. I do not wish for him to suffer the same fate as Kade Richards."

"Alright. That all?"

"Ja. Lowes may continue as normal. His visitors must be chosen with care, however. He may be in danger."

"I'll do that," the other man said. "Do I need to take you to his cell first?"

Klavier nodded again and he followed the man to Simon's cell, his dread growing as the folder he carried seemed to get heavier. He was getting tired of walking into his cell to ask him painful questions, relive his most horrifying memories and shatter his perceptions with sickening possibilities. The guilt tore at him both ways; because with his first step into Simon's cell he'd turned the man's world upside down and because he knew he wouldn't stop – no matter how many hurtful truths he found. He cherished truth because while he lost everything and everyone he loved one by one, the only goodness that was left in his life was truth. Yes, it was unkind at times and it cut through him like a knife but he comforted himself with the fact that it was still _goodness_. And in a life spent reading autopsies, examining photographs of the dead and chasing criminals, Klavier needed goodness like the earth needed the sun.

He tried to tell himself that he was carrying the truth in his hands. He tried telling himself that he was finally getting closer and closer to solving everything. He'd discovered an undeniable link, he was going to have David Rainsford's address on his desk soon and he was going to pay a visit to the woman that lay at the centre of it all. He had more leads than he could handle now. He was closer to the truth and, hopefully, closer to releasing Simon from the stench of his own decaying thoughts.

Still, he couldn't rid himself of the iciness that was spreading upwards to meet the fire that was descending. He felt hot and cold – the former because he was angry and he didn't know at who and the latter because he'd never imagined it possible.

Never before had the truth felt like such a burden.

"You've got a visitor, Lowes," the warden called as he opened the door and Klavier saw Simon turn around; he'd been staring at the wall before him.

"Long time, no see, Mr Prosecutor," Simon said sarcastically but he was smirking.

"Ja," Klavier said with a half-hearted smirk of his own. "Did you miss me?"

Simon laughed and then sat at his bed, gesturing for Klavier to take the chair opposite him. He looked over at the warden who was still standing by the door.

"I'll let one of the guards know you're in here," he said. "I'm gonna go move Rainsford now."

Klavier nodded before turning back to Simon who was frowning. "Rainsford? They're moving Rafael?"

"Ja. I have cut off his connections to anything or anyone, so to speak."

Simon scoffed. "He'll find some way around it."

Klavier shook his head. "I have taken measures to make sure he does not influence anybody."

Simon frowned again. "Why? I mean, why now?"

Klavier studied Simon for a minute. His hair was wet so he assumed the man had returned from a shower which meant he could have had contact with one of the other inmates. It seemed as though he didn't know Richards' fate and Klavier hesitated to tell him. He'd already come to him with something that was going to be hard to take – should he add to it?

But he knew that, if it were him, he'd want the truth – all of it – no matter how bitter it was.

"Kade Richards was killed the night before my last visit to you," he said heavily. "It was ruled a suicide but I am certain Rafael had a hand in it."

Simon's look of disturbed astonishment lasted for mere seconds before it grew hard. "What goes around comes back around," he said coldly. "I'd say he got what he deserved."

Klavier couldn't agree more but he wouldn't voice it. He'd seen Simon's ghostly look of distress before it had disappeared and he guessed that, once, Kade and Simon might have been friends. Simon had known Kade was helping Rafael due to blackmail and Klavier wondered if that meant something. Perhaps, by giving Simon his reason, Kade had indirectly apologised to him for what he'd done.

Of course, he could be wrong. So he chose to keep quiet. It wasn't really important anyway.

"How did he die?" Simon asked.

"Potassium cyanide," Klavier replied. "He was in his cell when they found him."

This time, the struggle of emotions on Simon's face was too clear and Klavier looked down at the folder in his hand to give the Latino some privacy. He must have sat there in silence for only a few minutes but what felt like hours. The cell held the aura of such extreme emotions that he could feel it saturate him, invisible, vapour-like fingers that sought to sink into him.

"That folder looks ominous, Mr Prosecutor," Simon said and Klavier was relieved to hear the sarcasm return to his voice although when he realised how ironic his comment was, his relief died an instant death.

"I checked out some files," Klavier began, vaguely, deciding he would take this slow. "Namely Gale's. I found an interesting inconsistency."

Simon frowned. "What sort of inconsistency?"

Klavier opened his mouth to answer but words failed him. He looked at the ground, surprised at his hesitancy and chuckled dryly. The dread hadn't hit him fully – until now. He glanced at Simon whose frown had deepened and he sighed. He threw the folder on the floor and flicked through it until he found what he was looking for. He held out two separate sheets of paper to Simon who took them from him with a quizzical look.

"Did you know that Gale was born Gale Sanders only?" Klavier asked. Simon didn't answer; he was looking back and forth between the details before him and his confusion was evident. "She did not have a middle name."

"It says here she did," Simon said waving the paper in his right hand. "Gale Lana Rainsford."

"Ja," Klavier nodded. "I have only just noticed the discrepancy. Did you know of this?"

"No," Simon answered.

"Did you also know that she did not legally change her name to Rainsford?" Simon shook his head again. "There was a mistake in my files. While that was the surname she gave to most people after David left her, her bank and medical documents are still under Sanders. However, she _did _have a middle name registered."

"Okay, so she decided she wanted a middle name. What's the big deal?" Simon asked. Klavier paused to watch as Simon threw the sheets down on the ground and he stared at them for a moment longer before continuing.

"I also went through your file, Simon," Klavier said. "I believe your mother was named Lana?"

"Yeah, so?" he asked and Klavier could tell Simon was getting annoyed. "If you're trying to say she did this out of some sort of affection for me, you're wrong. If that was the case she would have told me she'd done it."

Klavier was rifling through the papers again and he pulled out another document which he held out to Simon. "This is the court order which legalised her name change."

Simon looked exasperated but humoured Klavier by plucking it out from in between his fingers. "I feel like I'm in some cheesy courtroom drama," he said running his gaze over it. "Yeah okay. Lana. Gale Lana Sanders. I get that she – "

"Please, look at the date," Klavier said. He watched Simon's face carefully as it sought out the date and when his eyes fixed on it, his entire demeanour changed; it was tense, almost angry, and confused.

"2019," Klavier said softly, "14th August 2019. Almost a year after she left and only a few months after she returned and told you it was over."

Simon was frozen. He was still staring at the sheet of paper.

"Why would she do that, Simon?" Klavier asked. "Why would she leave and then do this?" He gestured towards the document.

Simon raised his eyes to Klavier very slowly. "You know, don't you?"

It should have been said – it had been what he'd come for. It had been his purpose in showing him all of these documents. But as Klavier sat there and stared at Simon, his will gave out. He wasn't a man easily swayed by emotions – especially where honesty was concerned. This was an integral part to moving forward for Simon but still Klavier had reservations.

_What am I doing? I could give him hope… and crush it. What kind of truth am I about to give him? What proof do I really have? An assumption, a discrepancy or two, some dates and a court order? No. I can't do it. I need something more concrete. _

"Klavier," Simon said and the unfamiliarity of it caught Klavier's attention who looked at him.

_He can't even begin to guess. He has no idea of the possibility these small facts present. _

"I will not lie to you, Simon," Klavier said finally. "I have neither concrete proof nor has anybody confirmed anything. I possess only assumptions and I cannot divulge what they are yet. I am, however, going to find out. And I will be back within four days to tell you."

He could see the way Simon struggled to stop himself from asking what it was outright; the document slid from his fingers, his fist curled and his features tightened. Those black eyes were fixed solidly on Klavier who wondered if he was going to be on the receiving end of a (well-deserved) punch. But then, Simon seemed to compose himself.

"Four days, huh?" He waved dismissively, stretching out on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. "Whatever."

"Simon, I – "

"It's fine," Simon said abruptly. "I trust you. If you'd rather not tell me now, you have a reason for it."

"Thank you," Klavier said solemnly. "I appreciate your faith." He picked up all the scattered papers off the hard stone floor and slipped them back in the folder. "I have to leave now. I… am going to visit her brother."

Simon glanced at Klavier. "Her brother?"

"Drake Sanders," Klavier said. "I believe he has the answers to some of our questions."

* * *

Klavier was parking his car when he received the phone call. He glanced at it as it sounded and continued manoeuvring but then looked at it again when he realised whose picture was flashing on the caller display. He lifted a hand to the button in his headset and accepted the call.

"Hello, Ema," he said with a smile.

"What, no _guten morgens _today?" she said and he laughed at her awful attempt at German.

"Not today, Fräulein," he said, looking in his side mirror to make he was going straight. "How are you?"

"A bit annoyed," Ema said unnecessarily; her voice conveyed her mood pretty well. Klavier smiled. "You order a thousand things – some I don't even know how to pronounce the names – but you forget to order orange juice!"

Klavier stifled a laugh. "Just woke up, ja?"

"Yes. No Snackoos and no orange juice!" she ranted and Klavier turned off the ignition and relaxed in his seat, enjoying the sound of her voice. "You better not be in the office when I get there otherwise I'm going to Snackoo you to death or drown you in OJ! "

"There is orange juice in the fridge Ema," Klavier said.

"No there _isn't_!" Ema snapped. "There is not a single carton in there with – "

"They are in bottles, _liebling_," Klavier said gently. "I had some small ones ordered too so that you may take one with you, if you wish."

There was silence and Klavier heard the unmistakable sound of Ema rummaging through the fridge before all went quiet. "Oh."

"Found it?" He was unable to keep the mirth out of his voice.

"Well, why did you have them in these weird places?" she demanded. "Some are stuck at the back of this stupid chasm you call a fridge and the others are where the milk is! Don't you have any sense of organisation? No, wait, I've been away from work too long. I forgot the state of your office otherwise I wouldn't even have asked such a stupid question of a shambolic glimmerous fop! This surpasses even the Fop Scale and trust me, I gave you a lot of leeway on that but noooo, obviously, just being glimmerous isn't enough now you have to – "

The laughter escaped from him rebelliously and he threw his head back, laughing heartily. "Oh, Fräulein!"

"What the hell's so funny, you fop!" she demanded and he could hear her temper rising.

"Achtung! Somebody got out on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Klavier grinned wickedly. "Or maybe somebody was just missing me in her bed, ja?"

Silence. Then –

"WHEN WILL YOU STOP BEING SUCH A CONCEITED FOP!"

Klavier roared with laughter as she continued her tirade of supposed insults.

" – THINK YOU CAN SEDUCE ANYBODY YOU WANT WITH YOUR BABY-BLUE EYES AND SHINY BLOND HAIR – "

"You have been admiring my features, Ema?" he asked in a tone barely suppressing his hilarity. There was silence again which was then concluded by a beep from his headset that signalled she'd hung up on him.

Klavier laughed again, imagining the blush that had likely tinged her cheeks, the way her chest would be heaving from the effort of screaming at him and the petulant way she would bang and throw things in anger. Perhaps he'd pushed her a little too much with the bed comment – he only _wished_ he could fall asleep in her arms and wake up to her every morning.

He knew she would be embarrassed – shyness was a trait of hers he'd recently discovered – and he didn't want her seething in it all day. So, he rang her back and when, after a few rings, she didn't answer, he was disappointed. Just as he was about to hang up, however, the ringing stopped and he was amused at the sudden composure of her voice when she spoke.

"Yes?"

"It took you 5 rings to calm yourself down, Fräulein?" Klavier said cheekily. "Did you take deep breaths? You know deep breaths are a must."

"…You are really annoying sometimes, Klavier." She was irritated but he was delighted to hear the reluctant smile in her voice.

"Are you alright, Ema?" Klavier asked, serious now but still smiling.

"Yeah, I'm okay." She paused. Klavier could tell there was something else she wanted to say so he waited. "Are _you_ okay?"

He smiled at the badly concealed concern. With her, he didn't mind; in her worry he found some salvation because it showed him that she cared and if she cared, then what did he really have to worry about?

"Rocking," Klavier said. "How could I not be when I am conversing with you?"

"Your charms won't work here, glimmer-boy," Ema retorted and he could tell she was smiling openly now.

"Oh?" Klavier was enjoying himself. "What will then, Fräulein?"

"Do women honestly just tell men how they want to be charmed?" Ema asked and Klavier was somewhat surprised at the tone of her voice. It wasn't sarcastic, just curious, almost as if she really didn't know the answer to the question.

"You wish to be charmed, Ema?" Klavier chuckled when he received no response. "Sometimes, yeah, women do just tell us how to charm them."

"Hmph. Bimbos. Anyway, where are you?"

"I am investigating Gale's case," Klavier explained. "I am just about to pay her brother a visit."

"So it _was _him?" Ema enquired.

"Ja," he said shortly; he wasn't sure he wanted to discuss this until he'd actually met Drake so he changed the subject. "When are you going to work?"

"Um… In a while."

"After your orange juice, of course." Klavier smiled.

"Obviously."

"I have a lot of work to do today so I will probably be home late tonight. I will see you then, ja?"

"Ja," she mimicked him. Somehow his amusement at her German had shifted into pleasure – there was something cute about the way she copied him.

"Take care of yourself, okay? I want you to stay behind a desk. You are still not fully healed."

"Yeah, yeah," Ema said impatiently. "I know, you overprotective berk."

"I shall see you tonight, Ema," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Then, I will whisper in your ear what I dreamt last night."

He waited for a response although he wasn't really expecting one. He didn't check his phone – he knew she was still there.

"Have a good day, _mein liebe,_" he said quietly.

"You too," she said in what was probably meant to be a professional voice but came out unsteady. Then, with another beep, she was gone and Klavier was left wishing he could just drive back to the house, pull her into his arms and kiss her. For now, he comforted himself with the fact that he had managed to affect her with his remark. He smiled with satisfaction when he thought about her shaky voice.

"Focus, Gavin," he muttered as he got out of his car. He had an important task ahead. Slamming it shut, he turned to face the house Drake had inherited upon his parents death. It was the family home and Drake had reportedly refused many offers to buy the house out of sheer sentimentality.

He took a deep breath.

This was where Gale had been brought up. There was something about that knowledge that affected him in a way he didn't fully understand. With every step he took, it felt like he wasn't just approaching a building but a haven; after all, it was here, in this home, that her parents had infused her with the morality and care for people that had cost her her life. His thoughts turned to the parents he'd never really considered. They must have really been something, he thought, to have raised a daughter like her. Suddenly the house seemed stronger, more forbidding somehow. His mind instantly likened it to a fortress, held together with the cement of goodness and principles, mixed by a firm hand and built on the foundations of love.

If only his home had been held together the same way, it may not have fallen apart the way it had. Even then, it had been his mother's hand that had saved him from harm as the roof was brought crashing down by his father. It had been his mother's love that had been his shield against his father's poisonous betrayal.

Maybe that was what had pulled him deeper into this case with each passing day, he thought as he neared the door. Gale's morals and Gale's selflessness had reminded him so much of his mother. Most of all, he couldn't forget the night Gale had appeared to him – an event his logical mind could still not grasp but had come to accept.

_One shows what he is made of under difficult conditions._

Had it been a coincidence that she had said the same thing to him? Sometimes, he thought not. After all, she'd known so much about him – Kristoph, Daryan and Ema… He supposed most people knew about Kristoph and Daryan, being that they had such high profiles, but how had she known about Ema?

His mind couldn't understand _how_ she could know these things. He knew nothing about the afterlife – he'd never really paid attention but now that he'd seen the proof of one… how did it really work?

He shook himself. It didn't matter. Not right now. Right now, he had a job to do and he was going to do it.

It was half a minute after his knock that the door opened and he was greeted by a surprised Drake whose hand was at the tie around his neck, as if he'd been loosening it.

"Mr Gavin!" he exclaimed, clearly surprised to see him.

"Herr Sanders," said Klavier a little seriously, "I hope you do not object to my visit."

"Not at all. Come on in," said Drake, stepping aside to let him in.

Klavier hesitated, eyeing the wooden hallway on the other side of the door. Was he going to step on the ghost of her footsteps? His mind could almost visualise them, white and lightly printed. Dare he…?

"Mr Gavin?" Drake was looking at him, puzzled and Klavier realised he must look like a complete fool. With a smile, he stepped into the house.

"This way." Drake gestured down the hall but Klavier barely heard him; he didn't know if he was imagining it but the air seemed to grow warmer, wrapping around him comfortingly. His eyes roved the floor, the walls, the tables and ornaments decorating them. His heart jumped as his eyes fell upon several frames but he didn't approach them.

"I'm sorry," Drake said and Klavier turned to see him rushing around picking up several pieces of clothing, toys and a few dishes. "I haven't been home since I dropped Lana off at school. This place is a mess."

"Do not inconvenience yourself on my account, Herr Sanders," Klavier said. "I am sorry to drop in on you like this."

"It's fine," Drake said with a laugh. "Although I am beginning to wonder if I'm in trouble with the police." When Klavier gave him a quizzical look, Drake laughed again. "I'm pretty sure I didn't give you my home address which means you took the trouble to find out yourself. I doubt it was for a friendly visit."

Klavier chuckled. "I am only a prosecutor," he called after Drake who exited the room with the mess in his arms. He looked around the room and saw more framed photos. "If you were wanted, you would be receiving a visit from Detective Skye."

"Skye?" Drake said, returning. "Ema Skye?"

"You remember her," Klavier said with a nod. _Who wouldn't remember Ema?_

"Wow. I had no idea," Drake said with a contemplative thought then, as if remembering Klavier was still there, he gestured towards the seat. "Take a seat. How about something to drink?"

"_Nein, _thank you," Klavier declined as he sat down. Drake nodded and seated himself in a chair nearby. "Your home is nice."

Drake chuckled. "As proud as I am of it, I doubt you went to the bother of finding my address to tell me that, Mr Gavin."

Klavier smiled. "That is true. Although, I insist you call me Klavier." Drake looked surprised at this show of familiarity.

"Before I begin, I would like to extend my apologies for my behaviour the other day," Klavier said, interlocking his fingers and fixing his eyes on Drake who looked somewhat wary now. "As well as what I am about to say."

Drake nodded slowly.

"I am certain you must know that I am Kristoph Gavin's younger brother," Klavier started and he didn't blame Drake for the way he suddenly went still. "I believe you are somewhat familiar with him."

"Why do you say that?" Drake asked.

"Because he defended your sister's murderer," Klavier responded bluntly and Drake flinched. He waited for an interruption but there was none. "I am sorry for your loss."

"It's been 3 years," Drake said tightly.

"Indeed," Klavier said. "I, however, only became aware of this case recently."

"How is this relevant?" Drake demanded.

"I met Gale once," Klavier said. A fleeting thought passed his mind that, every time he said that, nobody knew what circumstances he'd met her under. "I was disgusted to find that my brother had defiled our family name by defending such an animal." He paused but Drake remained motionless. "I looked into the case myself and found myself faced with a few inconsistencies."

"What does it matter?" Drake asked but Klavier heard how forced the question was.

"It matters," Klavier said. "And we both know it."

There was a moment of silence in which both men regarded each other. Klavier could feel Drake sizing him up. He suddenly felt like an adolescent – he kept forgetting that he wasn't dealing with people his age anymore. Drake was in his mid-40s and old enough to be his father and the way he was appraising him now made him all too aware of the fact.

"I will not play games with you, Herr Sanders," Klavier said. "There are too many problems left unsolved. However, one of the most puzzling was answered a few days ago when I happened across you at the beach. It was madness," he admitted, shaking his head. "I could not believe that the answer had ran to me."

"I don't understand," Drake said stiffly.

Klavier turned his eyes to Drake very slowly and took a long, deep breath. This was it. Here, he was going to get his answer.

"Where is Lana's mother?"

Drake was silent, immobile. His eyes were fixed on Klavier and it almost looked as though he'd stopped breathing. The prosecutor waited, suddenly more patient than he thought he would ever be. After all, hadn't this been the very thing he'd been after? Hadn't he wanted this answer for so long – for Simon, for Gale and for himself?

But he suddenly realised there was more to just finding out the truth. Here he sat, dredging the memories of a dead woman – no, a dead _sister_ – and if he couldn't be patient in return for the massive favour he was asking, he was unworthy of it. He hadn't thought, until now, about the way his questions could turn so many lives upside down – lives which had, clearly, managed to find some peace. If Gale's death haunted Klavier so, what was it doing it to her family?

"You know." Drake's voice was tinged with sadness and defeat.

"There is a man sat in a prison cell," Klavier began softly. "A man who has, for the past 3 years, remained caged by one question that has tortured him day in and day out. Why did Gale leave him?"

A little confused frown formed on Drake's face.

"A man who does not know that he is the father of Gale's child."

Drake's face turned white so suddenly that Klavier might have been alarmed if he hadn't been expecting it. The older man stood up and turned away, walking to the window. Klavier allowed the silence that fell around them again, knowing that Drake needed this moment to come to grips with the situation. He knew that it wasn't just the reminder of Gale's murder that would rip out the ground from beneath his feet but also that the girl he'd raised all these years… well, that Klavier had come to bring her to her real father.

At least, that's what he hoped to do eventually. Whether or not Drake would give her up was another matter.

"So he's alive," Drake said quietly and Klavier's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You did not know?"

Drake turned back to him and he looked sad. "Gale said Lana's father would come looking for her eventually."

Klavier stood up as shock coursed through him, wave upon wave. Was it possible he didn't know about Simon?

"You mean you do not know who she was engaged in a relationship with?"

Drake shook his head. "After her break up with David we lost contact with her. She would ring me every so often just to let me know she was okay. The next time I saw her was when she turned up on my doorstep asking for my help. That was a few months before Lana was born."

"Please," Klavier said. "Tell me everything you know."

Drake seemed to consider him before nodding. "Give me a moment," he said as he walked towards the door. Before Klavier could say anything else, Drake had left the room.

Klavier sank back into his seat, stunned. Although, he thought, he shouldn't really be. Everything he'd found so far was so riddled with mystery, he should be used to it. The fact that Gale had been so secretive told him that there was probably more that he didn't even realise he was missing… and the idea made him apprehensive. He would have to pay closer attention to detail if he wanted to find out everything.

"Gale left me several things," Drake said, re-entering the room and Klavier saw he had something in his hand. "Letters she wanted me to give to people, which I did. The only thing I have left is this."

"Is that what I think it is?" Klavier said waving towards the object in Drake's hand.

"Gale's journal," Drake confirmed, looking at it. "I hope you find something in here." He held it out to Klavier who took the black book gently. A current flowed through him when his fingers touched it and he shook it off.

"Were you unable to find anything of use in here?" Klavier asked.

"I haven't read it."

"What?" The word sprung from him, pushed by his surprise.

Drake turned away. "I was afraid of what I'd find in there. At first I put it off, day by day, thinking I would do it when I was feeling stronger. I didn't want to break down when I had Lana to take care of." He paused as if he was waiting for Klavier to chastise him for being a coward but the prosecutor said nothing. "You can't understand, Mr Gavin, what it's like to wonder if a look at those pages would reveal secrets about my sister that I'd never have guessed. Now… it's too late."

"I do not blame you," Klavier said, pity swelling in him. "And I thank you for giving it to me."

He thought he saw Drake nod slightly before he spoke. "Now, Mr Gavin. If you don't mind, I… I'd like to be left alone." He turned haunted eyes on Klavier. "I don't – "

Klavier held up a hand as he rose to his feet. He stared at Gale's brother and he promised him what he'd promised Simon, promised himself and promised Gale: _I will end this for all of us. _

Drake simply nodded and as he was about to show Klavier to the door, the prosecutor declined, saying he would find his own way out. Drake attempted a smile of appreciation before turning away to stare out of the window once more.

As Klavier walked back to his car, he looked back at the house; it still looked the same as it had when he had first seen it but now the love and comfort was shrouded in grief and loss. Unbidden, David's family home flashed before his eyes and he saw the instant contrast. In that moment, he understood why David had been drawn to Gale. The cold did always seek the warm, did they not?

He glanced down at the journal in his hand and he was overcome with the urge to yank it open and read it there and then but he knew that was a job best left for his office. He may not understand everything written in it and would probably need to refer to other files he had on the people involved. But mostly, he needed to be able to drive with a clear head and something told him that Gale's journal would compromise that.

* * *

If anyone looked up at the building that housed the Criminal Affairs department and the Prosecutor's offices, they might have seen the rock-star and prosecutor extraordinaire looking down at them. However, it would take exceptional eyesight to see the trouble expression on his face. And if seen, it would take somebody who knew him – _really _knew him – to pick it apart.

Ema would notice the ocean sorrow in his lowered eyes that told her his emotions were too strong to be controlled, hidden. Deston would see the hard line of his mouth, the clenched fists he was hiding in his pockets, that showed him Klavier's rage was one drop away from overflowing. Daryan's cocky remarks would never make it past his lips when he saw the red tinge that had spread over Klavier's cheeks as a result of his uneven breathing.

And when they tried to figure out the reason for his distress, they would find it on his desk: a black journal that lay open, its pages decorated with elegant script. If any one of them had the ability to see into his heart with spiritual empathy, they would know how it had been stabbed by each of those characters, how it bled with disbelief and horror and rage with each word. They might have come to realise his fury at the desperation he had witnessed lying in those pages.

Klavier needed Ema right now because she would understand where his friends might not; she would know that it wasn't just the sadness and fear of the dead woman that had touched him.

It was the knowledge that Gale Sanders had walked knowingly into a trap she had helped to build.

* * *

_22/03/2023_

_He thinks I don't see him but I do. I saw him today just like I saw him last week on the pier and a few days ago when I saw him sitting at the bench in the park. It's difficult not to when every part of me is tuned to him. When my skin burns, I know he's watching me. Even though it's the most unsettling feeling, I wouldn't give it up for anything because it connects me to Simon the only way we can be connected now. I guess most would call it love, if they knew, but I think it's deeper than that. After all, when you create life with another, doesn't that bind you irrevocably? And Lana has bound me to him forever._

_I thought the decision I made with David was going to prove to be the most difficult decision of my life but it was nothing compared to having Lana and hiding it from Simon. Every time my skin tingles and I know he's nearby, it takes all I have to remind myself I'm doing it for a reason and the entire time I know he's watching, only one thought runs through my head: please, forgive me._

_I know I don't deserve it. I don't deserve his forgiveness. I don't deserve his love. But his quiet acceptance is also my punishment. To know that he's there, watching me, floods me with shame and I want nothing more than to crawl away and hide my face. The irony is, my shame is the strongest weapon I have. It's my shame that keeps me from turning to look at him, to let him know without saying anything that I know he's there. How can I possibly look him in the eye when I'm hiding Lana from him? How could I ever look at him knowing how much I've hurt him? But most of all, it's my shame that will give me the strength to put right what I've done wrong. It's shame that will give me the courage to face what's headed my way. _

_Death seems inadequate repayment in the face of everything Simon gave me. I'm returning his friendship with loss, happiness with sorrow and fulfilment with emptiness. In my cowardly moments, I have to remind myself that the life he presented me with was never mine to begin with – it was a gift that I never deserved. _

_It's strange. I spent 8 years with David and he was never able to give me anything remotely close to what Simon gave me in a year. David was not bad. He loved in his own way. He was protective and I'm sure that he would have given his life for the people he loves. Still, the thought of him fills me with rage. Not because I'm going to die at Rafael's hands. Not because of the way things ended. It's simply because he's put Simon and Lana's life in danger._

_If Simon and Lana weren't in my life, I might have still done this just to save David. But Simon and Lana __are__ in my life and if it wasn't for David's family, I would have told Rafael where to find him. I would be rid of them and I would turn to my own family. But I'm a mother. And, in my heart, Simon is my husband. I could never wish that kind of a loss on another and so, I have no choice. _

_I hope, before I die, that I get the chance to tell him I love him. Kade told me Simon will be with them. I'm not angry – in fact, I'm almost relieved, selfish as I am. His presence will give me comfort. I hope he stays angry with me long enough. I don't want him trying to save me._

_I don't think I'll write in this journal again. Kade said Rafael was planning on approaching me in a few weeks. Knowing Rafael, he'll do it in a month or two – he likes to play it cool, he doesn't want to show anyone he's desperate. Too bad for him I'm two steps ahead. I'll make sure he suffers, the only way he knows how. He may gain the satisfaction of killing me but he'll never have the satisfaction of hurting anyone else. Not after this. _

_I pray my courage sustains me. Too much rests on this. And these debts must be repaid._


	14. Taste Of Fear

Taste Of Fear

Deston looked up from his desk when his door opened and Ema Skye breezed in, bottle of orange juice in her hand and a packet of Snackoos in the other. He watched in amusement as she kicked the door closed behind her and marched to his desk, a disgruntled look on her face.

"Morning, Em," Deston greeted her and grinned when she responded by popping a couple of Snackoos in her mouth and munching on them furiously. She slumped in the chair grumpily. "Bad morning?"

"Why is security so tight around here?" she complained, glaring at him. "I've had to show my badge a hundred times to a hundred people and even so, I was still getting trouble."

"I g – "

"And, at one point, I had to be saved by some idiot who claimed I was telling the truth, not because I was shoving an authentic badge in his pudgy face but because _he'd seen me in the newspapers with you!_" She gave Deston daggers as her hand curled around the packet of snacks angrily. "Who the hell would invade an agency where you all have guns? And why is the media more influential than my police badge?"

"Standard procedure, Em," Deston explained, trying not to laugh. "We have some highly classified information in this building."

"Such as?"

Deston chuckled. "It's classified."

"Hmph." Ema looked away, her eyes roving around his office. The last time she'd been here, she'd been too angry to take notice of it but now she saw that he was infinitely tidier than Klavier. She was surprised at the level of organisation – it almost resembled Edgeworth's and she hadn't thought that was possible.

Then again, it _was _a highly _classified_ building with highly _classified _information so she supposed he couldn't afford to be messy.

She turned back to Deston who'd put down the pen on the documents he'd been scribbling on. She fixed him with a serious look. "So?"

Deston sighed and the smile slid from his face, understanding what Ema was referring. "Yeah. I've got somebody working on finding the identity of the other man on that phone call. It's proving to be difficult but the guy said he'll try out a few other things. Said it might take a while."

"Why is it difficult?" Ema asked, frowning.

"Because," Deston said leaning forward on his desk and rubbing his eyes, "the guy on the other end is clever. He's made it nigh impossible to trace him. The number is dead and when we tried to check out its background, it appears to never have existed."

Ema blinked. "How's that possible?" she demanded. "The phone companies have all the records of anybody who uses any number so unless…" she trailed off as a thought hit her and Deston nodded.

"Unless he has somebody on the inside, erasing the data _but_," he added seeing the look on her face, "no detail is ever completely lost and the man I have working on it is a genius. I'm sure he'll turn up something."

"So we sit around and do nothing?" Ema frowned.

Deston smiled. "I'm sure you have a job to do, Em."

"Are you trying to tell me what – " an outraged Ema started but Deston cut her off hastily, seeing the danger ahead.

"No, no! I just don't want you to get in trouble, babe."

"Hmph." Ema pulled out another packet of Snackoos from her bag and yanked it open ferociously. "I'm not even supposed to be at work and I just know Klavier's warned the chief not to give me anything except paperwork."

He nodded his understanding and watched Ema for a moment as she took a gulp of the juice and slammed the bottle on his desk before returning to her snacks. She tried to ignore his silent observation of her through increasingly loud crunching and munching but, eventually, she couldn't help but turn her gaze back to him. He seemed to guess he was on the verge of getting a good telling off because he held up his hands and laughed, leaning back in his chair.

"Hey, whoa!" he exclaimed. "I was just wondering if you wanted to visit Phoenix!"

Ema was so caught by surprise that her anger vanished as she stood up and smiled widely, suddenly excited. She didn't know whether it was because she held Phoenix in such high esteem that he made her feel better but, whatever it was, whenever she was in his company, Ema found herself thinking she was overreacting about things. Phoenix's presence filled her with hope and motivation. "Let's go!" She bounced towards the door, filled with new energy.

"Ema." Something in his voice stopped her in her tracks. "I think we should tell Phoenix what we found."

"What?" Ema snapped, rounding on him. "Why the hell would we worry him for no reason?"

"No reason?" he echoed. "Em…" he trailed off. His sigh was heavier this time.

Ema scrutinised him. His face was drawn and haggard as if he hadn't slept in days and the usual mischievous glint in his eyes was dimmed. He was pale, his movements slow and his mouth set in a grim line. However, what alarmed her the most was the way he was avoiding her eyes and hesitating… as if deciding whether or not he should tell her something.

"Deston?" she said quietly. "What's wrong?"

When he finally met her eyes, Ema's hands tightened around the bag of snacks and she froze; he looked graver than she'd ever seen him and the expression was more frightening than any she'd seen before. What could have Deston, the most laid-back guy she'd met, so wound up?

"I'm pretty sure this guy is a member of the crime ring I'm tracking," Deston said at last. "And I'm worried that I'm missing something."

"Like what?"

"You don't think that Phoenix would…" Again, Deston trailed off and Ema's eyes narrowed in suspicion when he exhaled in frustration. "I know he's not bad and I wouldn't say this except Kristoph's trial…"

Ema couldn't make sense of what he was saying. What would Deston be so cautious to talk about? She thought back to Kristoph's trial to try and ascertain what relevance it could have to the case at hand. She ran through the trial in her mind and Phoenix's part in it but the answer eluded her.

"Deston, just spit it out," Ema commanded. "I'd rather not…"

And then it finally hit her and her eyes widened and she felt herself go numb. Slowly, she approached the desk and set the objects in her hand down upon it without thinking. Then, she moved around it until she was right before him, looking into his troubled gray eyes.

"Finish what you were going to say, Deston," she said softly, her eyes flickering back and forth between his. She already knew what he'd meant but she wanted to give him the chance to prove her wrong… she _wanted_ to be wrong…

"I know Phoenix isn't a crooked man but he could have got involved with them for a particular reason. Maybe he wan – "

He never got to finish the sentence; Ema's hand flew through the air and connected with his cheek with such intense speed that she was sure she'd heard something crick in his neck as his face swung from the impact. For a split moment, they were both frozen in one position. Deston seemed unable to turn back to her and she couldn't look away, barely able to believe such an idea had even crossed his mind.

"You say you know about Gant," she hissed, livid. "Then you must know that Mr Wright was the one who saved my sister from his influence. He saved my family." She waited for Deston to straighten himself and look at her but his face remained turned, his eyes lowered. "He would never do anything of the sort and if you ever dare to debase him like that in front of me again, I swear to _God_, I'll shoot you."

Without waiting for an answer, Ema turned away from him but she'd barely managed to take a few steps when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist and she turned her steely eyes on him, her insides frozen over with cold rage.

"Ema," he said quietly. "I di – "

"Let go of me," she cut across him and no sooner had she said those words that he withdrew his fingers. She didn't bother with her snacks, uncaring of anything except her need to put some distance between herself and Deston who, she found much to her distress, she was hating right now.

Ema barely noticed the people buzzing around her as she stormed through the offices, out into the hallways and down the stairs. Her mind was numb with disbelief that Deston – _Deston_ – could have even thought such a thing about Phoenix. Hadn't Phoenix spent almost 4 years making a name for himself not only as a successful lawyer but a just one too? Hadn't he proven, time and time again, that his defense was inelegant _because _it was honest? He didn't prepare his trials with forgeries, lies and fixed testimonies. He trusted his clients and in their innocence and honesty.

She'd watched his defense of Matt Engarde. _Everyone _knew about that trial – it had been so high-profile that Phoenix and his uncovering of the truth had been the talk of the town for months. A renowned actor unveiled as a murderer? She could still find newspaper clippings in the records archives and they were various. He'd gone out of his way to drag out the trial even though his friend's life was on the line simply due to his everlasting belief in justice. He'd proven his worth time and time again, not just as an attorney but as a moralistic man too.

So how _dare _Deston even consider the possibility that Phoenix could do anything illegal? How could he suggest that Phoenix would ever get involved in anything wrong for whatever reason? She knew Phoenix Wright – he didn't believe in 'the ends justify the means'. He'd helped Edgeworth depart from the very motto.

She was sick and tired of people like Klavier and Deston assuming the worst. They'd all forgotten why Phoenix Wright had become so well-known. It hadn't just been that he kept winning, It had been that he had a knack for winning the cases of truly innocent defendants. Phoenix had saved countless lives, salvaged the truth and reunited families. He deserved better than this.

Ema didn't realise there were tears in her eyes until she was outside, looking for her car, and found that everything was blurry. She brushed at them with the back of her hand and marched toward her car when she spotted it.

It wasn't just the injustice of Deston's thoughts that saddened her – it was the fact that she couldn't be friends with somebody who would consider Phoenix capable of such thoughts. Although Deston didn't deserve her affection, she couldn't help but admit to herself that she'd begun to care for him and she could potentially lose a friend.

_Klavier thinks Phoenix is guilty, _a treacherous voice inside her head said. _But you love him. You hugged him. You kissed him. _

Klavier has reason. His _brother_ told him Phoenix wasn't trustworthy.

_A brother that's in prison. He ought to know that nothing he says can be trusted._

It's not so easy to ignore your siblings.

_Why don't you admit you have double-standards?_

I do not –

"Ema!" Deston's voice drifted after her and she stopped for a moment, taken aback at being jolted out of her thoughts. She saw him rush out through the doors, letting them bang shut behind him before turning away again and quickening her pace. "Ema, wait!"

No. She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to _look_ at him. As she neared her car, Ema rummaged in her bag, cursing herself for shoving her car key in with all the bottles and test tubes when she had perfectly convenient pockets.

"Ema, wait UP_!"_

"Like hell," she muttered, finally finding it and jamming it into the lock but as she turned it, Deston grabbed her arm and pulled her around until she was facing him. Ema tried to step away from him but found her back pressed against the car and she closed her eyes, trying to stay calm.

"I'm sorry! You're right, I was completely out of order. I should know better than to – "

"Yeah, you should," Ema retorted, glaring up at him but when she took in his pleading expression, some of her anger melted. He looked so remorseful that she couldn't stay angry with him and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I… Never mind." She turned away. "I think we should – "

"Oh fuck," Deston cursed suddenly pulling away from her and she looked up at him with a frown; he was staring off to the side but when she followed his line of sight, she found nothing but a multitude of cars.

"What is it?" she said, noting that her tone hadn't altogether softened. She couldn't help but still be a little annoyed at him.

"Nothing," he said shaking his head. "I thought I saw… We should get going."

Ema stared at him for a moment, into his smile, and gave a deep sigh. Her anger was all but gone and she found herself feeling increasingly guilty. Her attention strayed to his cheek, a tinge of pink betraying where she'd struck him. The last of her aggravation evaporated.

"I'm sorry for slapping you."

Deston tilted his head to the side and smiled. "What slap, Detective?"

Ema couldn't help it – she smiled back.

* * *

"Des," Ema said as Deston slowed down the car at a traffic light and he looked at her. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all," Deston said, his fingers drumming against the wheel.

Ema hesitated. She knew it would seem like a very random question but it was the end result of an unexpected train of thought that had begun its journey in the morning. After she'd got rid of Klavier (and his blush-inducing behaviour), she'd picked up the newspaper and seen a tabloid shot of Raoul Adagio with a girl on his arm. It had got her thinking about all the gossip surrounding the Gavinners and, although she was no expert, it was a rare occasion when one of the band members wasn't featured on the front page with some new, potential girlfriend. There had been speculation about all of them at one point or another and just as she'd been jealously seething over the beautiful women Klavier had been seen with, a strange realisation had hit her; the only woman Deston had ever been seen with or speculated to have a relationship with was… _her_.

It had come as a shock to say the least and Ema refused to believe that she'd been his first girlfriend but, knowing what hounds the media were, she was intrigued that she was the first one to hit the tabloids. So, in her curiosity, she'd sat herself down at the laptop Klavier had left lying around and searched Deston on the internet (which, she would admit to no one but herself, had been unsettling – to know somebody she could actually look up on the Internet and find his life story had made her feel extremely nosy).

She need not have worried – except for his 'relationship' with her, everything else had come up blank. The only romantic notions had involved assumptions that he was gay which the media had dropped like a hot potato when she'd entered the picture (figuratively and literally). Ema had cringed at some of the shots of herself with Deston and, for once in her life, wished she could do magic just so that she could zap them all into nothingness.

But beyond that, she'd not been able to find a single photo of him with another woman that looked remotely romantic. So she wondered… did the media have it right?

"Have you ever… you know…" She swallowed. Why was she finding it so difficult just to ask him a simple question?

Deston raised an eyebrow and she could see the amused curiosity in his face. "Yes?"

"…had a girlfriend?" Deston took his eyes off the road, clearly surprised by her question and she rushed on. "It's just that I know you pretended to like me because of Kla – well, before that, was there a time when, you know, you – "

"Ema," Deston interrupted her nervous tirade. "Are you asking me if I'm gay?"

Ema almost choked. Seeing her expression Deston started laughing and turned back to the road, moving the car when the light turned green. Ema tried to take comfort in the fact that he wasn't annoyed but she couldn't stop herself from fiddling with her fingers. She wished she hadn't left her Snackoos on his desk.

"I'm not," Deston said through quiet laughter. "What in the world brought that on?"

Ema smiled sheepishly. "I just saw an article this morning about your friend and some girl and it got me thinking that I'd never seen you with anyone…"

She felt, rather than saw, Deston's mood change; a sudden disquiet seemed to fall over them like a heavy blanket. Inexplicably, Ema tensed too the way she did when she was on her way to a crime scene and about to examine a body.

"I used to have someone in my life," Deston said after a few minutes. "She's the only woman I've ever really loved."

Ema was touched by the gentle sadness that affected his tone. "What was she like?" she asked softly.

Deston smiled and another pang hit her heart at the wistfulness of it. "_A face of deadly beauty and a body like a flame, too hot to touch, too wild to tame…_" This was the first time she'd heard his singing without any distractions, any prejudices. It was bittersweet and tender and in the back of her mind, it dimly registered that he didn't get enough recognition.

"_Assassin Of My Heart,_" Ema said, remembering the lyrics from one of the earlier Gavinners songs.

"So you _do _listen to our music." Deston glanced at her sideways with a smile and Ema looked away with a pout. "Yeah. I wrote _Assassin Of My Heart_. It was after our… separation."

So it had ended badly. She glanced over at him and the unhappiness that had broken through made her reach out and touch his arm, wanting to say something that would comfort him but words escaped her. Regret surged through her for having asked and she didn't know whether to pursue this topic would be unwelcome or changing it would be insensitive.

"What happened?" she asked tentatively.

"_It often is…_" His eyes were fixed straight ahead as he continued to sing and Ema's fingers tightened around his arm, wishing she could push away some of the distress that accompanied the melody of his voice. "…_that the buds of desire, blossoming, don't flower… Left, too long, in the sun's destructive power…_"

Ema was confused. Did that mean she hadn't – ?

"She wasn't in love with me," Deston answered simply, seeing her puzzled expression.

"I'm sorry," Ema said quietly. "I shouldn't have asked."

"Don't worry about it, Ema," Deston said and she could hear the forced cheer in his words. "Of course you'd be curious."

"Des…" Ema started then paused, uncertain how she should word what she felt; she'd never been great at giving advice and she always worried she was going to screw up somehow.

"Get it off your chest, Em," Deston told her with a chuckle.

She bit her lip, looking out of the window and was surprised that he was parking his car opposite the Wright Anything Agency. She jumped on the opportunity to change subject and sat up straight, determinedly keeping her eyes fixed on the small banner above Phoenix's office.

"We're here!" she exclaimed.

Deston didn't answer straight away. He looked in the rear-view mirror for a moment then turned the keys in the ignition. The car silenced and Ema's hand was on the handle within seconds but he stopped her.

"Finish what you were going to say."

Ema resisted the urge to run away. She fiddled with her hair, looking out of the window. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Ema…" his voice carried a warning note and she threw up her hands rounding on him.

"Okay! I just wanted to say that everyone deserves to be happy and you shouldn't, you know…" Deston smiled at her, waiting for her to go on and Ema rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I don't," Deston said flashing her a grin worthy of her newly invented Fop Scale.

"Urgh. I'd decided you weren't a fop but I just changed my mind," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Deston sniggered. "My, that's a big compliment coming from Ema Skye."

"I said I changed my mind."

"C'mon, tell me," Deston persisted.

"Fine," she said exasperatedly. "I think you deserve happiness and you should try to move on. There. Can we go now?"

Deston stared at her briefly before nodding with an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Em."

"Yeah." Ema looked back out toward the agency where they hoped to find a certain ex-attorney lounging around in the cluttered product of his daughter's eccentric habits. "Let's go tell Mr Wright someone's trying to kill him… as always."

Deston laughed. "Let's."

* * *

"You mean you knew?" Ema gasped, straightening so suddenly from her position on the sofa that she knocked over something, causing several other objects to fall too. She ignored it.

"How do you know?" Deston demanded as he pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against.

The former attorney stared at both of them with that vague smile of his. Phoenix's hands slipped out from his pockets and he leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees. To Ema's eyes, he looked… _pleased_, but it seemed so strange that she told herself she must be misinterpreting his expression.

"You didn't honestly think it was a coincidence that the man who hit me with his car just happened to be treating criminals, did you?" He gave a dry chuckle.

"Mr Wright, how can you laugh at this?" she said, aghast. "Doesn't it worry you that some crime boss is after you?"

"We don't know that he's a crime boss, Ema," Deston reasoned. "But she's right. Why didn't you say something to anyone?"

Phoenix's eyes disappeared beneath his hat and he leaned back while slipping his hands back inside his pockets. A hint of a smile still played around his lips and as Ema's eyes were narrowing in suspicion at the familiar look, Deston voiced her thoughts.

"Phoenix," he said warily. "What are you hiding now?"

"What gives you the impression I'm hiding anything?"

Deston's only response was a raise of the eyebrow.

Ema was getting impatient. "Mr Wright – "

"Phoenix, Ema," he interrupted kindly.

" – you have to let us help you. You can't just carry on like – " Ema stopped abruptly when Deston's phone rang. She threw him an irritated look even though it wasn't his fault before she turned back to Phoenix to rage at him a little more but he was looking over her shoulder and smiling widely.

"Hi Daddy!" Trucy's sing-song voice floated from behind her and Ema turned to see her dancing in through the door, dragging a harassed looking Apollo behind her. "Oh Ema!" She stopped suddenly and Apollo stumbled. "How are you?"

"I'm great thanks," Ema said, trying not to giggle at the sight of the crimson-clad attorney who was brushing himself off and grumbling. "Hey Apollo."

He nodded politely. "Hi, Ema."

" – father's name too?" Deston's voice took over the silence and Trucy turned towards him, seemingly only have noticed him then. Ema watched with enjoyment as Trucy blinked furiously before gasping lightly and bounding across the room to stand in front of Phoenix. She leaned in to whisper in his ear although she needn't have bothered; everyone heard it anyway.

"_What's Mr Cavatin doing here?_"

Ema was about to answer her when Deston said her name and she looked at him; he'd turned off his cell and the small frown between his eyes was highlighted by the confusion in them. He gestured for her to approach him and, even though under any other circumstances she'd had have snapped his finger (or at least tried to) for beckoning her the way he had, she barely noticed it; she was by his side in an instant. Before she could pose any questions, he held out his phone to her and she noted the small message he'd typed, obviously to keep the contents secret:

_Result came through._

Excitement poured into her with those three words and she looked up at him with a small smile. He winked at her before turning back to Phoenix.

"We still have to finish off our conversation, Mr Wright," he said, reverting to the formalities in front of Apollo and Trucy. "Unfortunately, we have to go."

"Of course." Phoenix nodded.

Deston smiled at the Wright kids. "Have a good day, Mr Justice… Miss Wright…"

"You too, Mr Cavatin!" Trucy replied chirpily, bouncing on the balls of the feet and flashing him a cute smile.

Ema nodded at all of them, eager to get out of the house and learn what Deston had to say. She pushed and prodded him all the way to the door (the consequence of which was that he almost knocked Apollo over, who started grumbling again in a manner highly reminiscent of a younger Phoenix).

As soon as they were outside, Ema started bombarding Deston with questions as they crossed the road to the car.

"Well? Who is it? And is it a member of the crime ring? Is it someone we know? Do you know why they want to – "

"_EMA!"_ Deston shouted, yanking her out of the way of an on-coming car and he sighed in relief once she was safe.

"Watch yourself would you? It's not just your life you're risking! If something happens to you while I'm here, not only will Klavier break my legs, Lana will finish the job and break my neck!" He paused as if to reconsider. "Actually, it would be a race to see who could finish me off first." He threw her a glance, frowning. "You know too many people who are willing to murder me if I let anything happen to you. What the hell was I thinking allowing you to work with me?"

Unfazed by her near-death experience, Ema waved her hands dismissively; she might have laughed at his comments but patience wasn't her strongest suit at the best of times. "Just – "

"To answer your questions," Deston started, "the man I had on the job managed to find the name of the guy on the recording _and _the name of his father. He said that he checked out any possible links between the two and Phoenix but found nada. And," he paused, holding a hand to her back as he steered her across the road, "apparently, the so-called father doesn't even have a son. So, I'm thinking the word 'father' is more of a code than anything else."

"The only people who really need to use codes are either in the law – "

" – or against it," Deston finished. "Yeah. Weird though. Maybe that's what they call their mob bosses these days. So, there's a pretty good chance that they're high-end members of the ring. Well, at least the 'father' is. All that aside, you won't believe what I'm about to tell you."

"What?" Ema almost snapped, losing what little patience she had.

"We have a names for both of them as well. The 'son' is apparently called Leo Giovani. He should be pretty easy to find and I'm sure we'll also find a whole loada suspicious behaviour we can investigate. But I think this 'father' is the big fish." He paused as he moved around the car and he looked at Ema over the top, his face clouding with confusion. "He's in prison."

Ema's eyebrows shot up as she let out a surprised "what?"

Deston nodded. "Yeah."

She snorted. "Huh. Some leader of a shadow organisation. Can't even keep himself out of prison. This should be easy to deal with now that we…"

Deston was shaking his head and the look of apprehension on his face fully registered in her mind. He was worried about something and the confusion still hadn't left his face. "My man gave me a brief overview of the guy and he sounds like a real nasty piece of work, Em. Every time somebody seems to piss him off, even in prison, there's a dead body. Sometimes the victim is a relative or friend of the person he's pissed at." He leant against the roof, looking over her shoulder. "No, we can't take him lightly. And what's more, we still don't know why he wants Phoenix dead which really worries me."

Ema bit her lip, feeling humbled. She'd been too rash in making judgements. This was exactly the kind of thing that caused her valuable leads and important information. This thought would have been unsettling enough but his words had left a horrible taste in her mouth that had rebelliously slid down her throat and settled in the pit of her stomach like an iceberg.

"Who is he?" she asked.

"He's on death row for the murder of his brother's ex-girlfriend," Deston said. "Name's Rafael Rainsford."


	15. Medium Valley

Medium Valley

'.'

Her mouth has breathed for me.

Her skin has been my shield.

Her heart has beat for me,

And remained my everlasting field.

.'.

The river was rising under the command of the violent storm and the winds were sweeping all manner of things into its fierce embrace, bathing them in the chilly tears of the sky. Lightning reflected in a pair of blue eyes, hidden in the darkening shade of the branches; they swayed, adding to the roar of nature and drowned only by the bellow of the thunder that followed.

The tempest was far too perilous, too cruel, to risk and yet the owner of the troubled eyes paid no attention to the approaching danger. He was lost deep in thoughts so disturbing that the only way the storm registered was in its reminder of _her_.

Klavier wasn't thinking of how unsafe it was for him to linger in this place nor that his private place could potentially become his burial ground. He paid no attention to the fact that the lightning could be drawn to the pendant around his neck nor that the water of the river was rising. The only thing he was thinking was how ironic and fitting her name was.

Gale.

He, Simon, Lana, Drake… They were like the leaves, helplessly caught in the coil of her hurricane; ripped and thrown far from their roots, their make-up irrevocably changed forever. If he didn't feel so angry, he might have been awed by her influence.

Klavier didn't fully understand his anger or who it was directed at. Ever since he'd read Gale's journal, he'd done nothing but think about how much more complicated this case was than others and if he hadn't tried so hard to discover the truth, it may have remained a secret forever. Simon may never have found out about Lana and she may never have met her father. Gale's plan might have been lost in the ether of time, possibly discovered by Drake or Lana when it was too late to speak to Simon. It was mere chance that had brought Klavier to this point.

And what a point it was – he stood rigid as his clothes flew around him, his hair whipping his face. He barely noticed it. His insides were colder than anything his environment could throw at him.

The problem he faced was greater than he could have imagined. The fact that Gale had taken such extreme measures to protect Lana and Simon made him wonder if he hadn't underestimated the danger Rafael posed and if there was something else that he was missing.

One question bothered him: _why had Gale hidden Lana from Simon?_

Her journal had made it clear she'd done it against her wish and she'd felt guilty about it. There were several references to how much she wished she could see them together and try as he might, Klavier couldn't forget one phrase that made Gale's love for Simon clear; _without Simon I'm not even a shadow… nothing comes close to the ghost I've become. _

The only sign of his frustration was the curling of his fingers; his face remained devoid of emotion, giving nothing away of his uncertainty at what he should do next. It was in this confusion that he'd been wallowing for almost two hours.

Klavier didn't know how long his phone had been ringing – it only came to his attention when he shifted and he felt the vibrations. Reluctant at first to answer it, he eventually dug it out of his pocket and saw Ema's picture flashing on the screen. He hesitated, thinking she would worry if she heard the sound of his voice and no doubt, it would be dull and depressed. However, he found himself unable to ignore her, even now, and his finger moved to the answer button.

"Fräulein," he said with forced cheer and cringed at how fake it sounded.

"Klavier?" Her voice was marred by bad line; it was broken and uneven. He turned his back on the river and made towards where his bike was in search for better reception.

"Ja," he shouted as thunder rumbled through the sky again. "Can you hear me?"

Uneven crackling followed and he wondered if she was trying to talk and he called her name again. When he didn't receive a response, he looked at his phone and found that it had turned off. He cursed, wondering if the rain had caused damage. He threw it aside in frustration and glanced over his shoulder at the river realising that he needed to get away from this spot. Aside from extremely wet, he'd received nothing. For the first time, his private spot had failed him.

But then again, he thought as he jogged back the distance to his bike, some things were too complicated to be worked out overnight.

* * *

Ema was sat in the centre room when he entered and he saw the look of alarm that flickered across her face. She had a book in her hands which she threw aside and was on her feet in an instant. Klavier turned away from her, closing the door and using the opportunity to clear his face of his expression. He was aware of the fact that she was seeing more and more of his emotions and as comfortable as he felt with her, he didn't want her worrying about him without reason. He had enough of it from his friends without Ema looking at him as if she expected him to sprout an extra head.

"Did you just ride that death trap home?" Ema asked as she neared him and he turned back to her with a ready smile.

"Was Fräulein worried about me?" he said teasingly, pleased by how steady his voice sounded. Ema stopped in her tracks, clearly uncertain of his state. She stared at him for a moment and if it wasn't for the years of practice he'd had at a poker face, Klavier's disconcert might have showed on his face. He didn't know if he was pleased that Ema could read him so well – because it was a sign that their relationship was moving forward – or not.

"Hmph," was her reply and he saw that her scowl was back. As he watched, she turned her nose up in the air and walked away from him, out of the door. He chuckled as he took his jacket and boots off.

"Here," Ema said, re-entering the room and throwing a towel at him. "You're a mess, Gavin. And what the hell happened before? The reception on the phone was awful. Where have you been?"

Klavier held up a finger in a motion for her to wait then pointed to his clothes. She looked at them and gave one curt nod before falling back into the sofa and picking up her book again. He made his way to the room where he dried himself off and changed into something more comfortable. Then, with a smile at the ready, he joined her back in the room, falling in the space beside her on the sofa. She glanced at him sideways before continuing her reading and Klavier faced her fully, waiting for her to say something but she ignored him. With a finger, he lifted her book to see the title and chuckled when he saw it was science related.

"What the heck, Klavier!" Ema snapped. "You're like a kid. Let me read!"

"I believe you asked me a question before," Klavier said. "In answer to it, I was out and the storm rendered my phone useless. However, I am here now and you may ask me whatever it is you needed to ask."

"I didn't need to ask you anything," Ema said casually turning her eyes back to the book in her hands. "I rang you because I asked Mr Wright when he's planning on having the trial simulation." Klavier's back straightened but he didn't say anything. "He said he doesn't have a specific date but it's not going to be before October."

Klavier's relief was greater than he let on; everything inside of him was relaxing as if invisible chains had fallen away. Rafael would be dead and gone before the trial buzz even reached anyone.

It was when a smile crept on his face that he saw Ema watching him carefully out of the corner of her eye. He flashed her a smile and her eyes widened when he leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek. She dropped all reading pretence and turned on him in flustered annoyance but he shook his head.

"Do not pretend you did not like it, Ema," he said with a devilish smile.

"I wouldn't be pretending!" she protested and when he cocked his head she just shook her head exasperatedly. "So I suppose I just gave you good news?"

Klavier laughed, feeling lighter than he had for a long time. "Ja, Ema… the best."

A reluctant smile escaped her and she sighed. "That's great!"

Klavier only smiled, leaning against the sofa and staring at her. He lifted a hand to her forehead, brushing away some hair that rested on her skin. He swept his eyes over her features; his fingers followed his vision as they traversed the delicate planes of her face. He could see a blush forming on her cheek and he remembered what he'd said to her: _give me some part of you… maybe a blush when I stare at you for too long…_

Klavier was enchanted by the sight of her; Ema's shyness was so pure and uncharacteristic that it tugged at his heart and made him want to pull her into a tight hug. It was this desire that made him certain that what he felt for her was different to what he had ever felt for any other woman. Granted he'd never been so passionate about other women, never had he dreamt about anyone like he did with Ema nor been so plagued by thoughts of any one person but more than anything else, it was this desire just to hold her that made all the difference.

However, despite the blush on her face that showed him she was giving him something, it didn't change the fact that she still hadn't said anything to confirm his thoughts. He was flying by assumptions based on her glances, her kiss and her blush. He needed something more.

But he was going to be patient – she was worth it. It was killing him because all he wanted to do was hold her close and tell her how much she meant to him and he wanted her to say the same back. For that dream he was going to carry on fighting. She might have kissed him and she might not reject him but that only meant he'd won a battle, not the war – and he had every intention of winning.

"Would you quit staring?" Ema said looking away. "I feel like a goldfish or something."

"Ah, Fräulein," Klavier sighed dramatically. "Goldfish have nothing on you."

Ema's eyebrows rose. "Was that meant to be a compliment?" she asked. "'Cause it wasn't one of your best lines."

"What _are _some of my best lines, Ema?" Klavier asked unfazed.

"Urgh." She rolled her eyes.

"I do not recall that one," Klavier said with another wicked grin.

She made low sound in her throat again and threw her book aside before standing up but his hand shot out to grab hers and he pulled her. Ema let out a yelp as she lost her balance and landed ungracefully in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist to help her adjust but also to trap her so that she stopped struggling and turned to him with a glare.

"Klavier…" she said with a warning tone. "Let me go!"

"Mmm," he sounded as he leaned back, keeping a firm grip on her, and looked into her face with a smile. "I think not."

"You can't do that!" she objected, trying to free herself. "This is illegal! I could have you arrested for – _Klavier_!"

Klavier shot her a fiendish look as he began to tickle her and she squealed, trying to escape his grasp but he held on to her tightly.

"_Nein_, Fräulein," he chortled when she tried to counter-attack. "I am not ticklish."

"You – no –! No! St – get off – no, wai – _Klavier_!"

He paused, his hands resting on her waist as he tilted his head so that he was looking at Ema who was frozen in an odd position, breathing heavily. She glowered in his smiling face.

"Will I get a kiss if I stop?" Klavier asked mischievously.

Ema scowled at him. "You wish."

"I do," Klavier agreed. "Will you grant it?"

"Hell no! You must be drea – STOP IT YOU BIG FAT FOP!" she screamed, thrashing in his arms as his fingers resumed their dance.

"It is one kiss, Ema," Klavier called over her cries. "Your torture will end."

"And I'll succumb to another!" Ema snapped. "I prefer this one thank you – AARGH!"

Klavier laughed as she fell across his legs, shouting incoherent curses and gasping, her fingers clawing at his, trying to make him stop but she was no match for his strength. He moved his torture down her spine, around her hips and to the back of her legs and she started kicking with new vigour, trying to throw him off until at last she gave in with a defeated "_okay, okay, I'll do it, dammit_!"

Triumphant, Klavier lifted his hands from her but kept them close enough to grab her again if she tried to get away. He watched with a happy smile as she straightened, throwing him an exceedingly annoyed look that might have withered a flower but had no effect on him whatsoever. He was too used to it.

Ema tried to move into the space next to him but he seized her waist, keeping her in his lap. "My kiss, Fräulein?" he said, flashing her a smile.

She stared at him for a second with narrowed eyes but, clearly realising the danger she was in, Ema planted a hasty kiss on his cheek. Klavier felt a jolt go through him; she'd placed her hands on his chest as she leaned against him and Klavier couldn't help himself – his arms enveloped her, trapping her once more.

"You said you'd let me go," Ema complained but there was a breathy quality to her voice now and it delighted him.

"You must kiss me here," Klavier whispered, pressing a finger to his lips.

"But you never said where, you just asked for a kiss!" Ema griped. "Stop being such a fop!"

"I am being specific now, _mein liebling_," he murmured.

Ema half pouted but her attention seemed to have strayed from the fact that she was meant to be annoyed with him because she was staring at him as if intrigued by something in his face. Klavier stared back at her, letting the silence stretch, until she finally leaned in and touched her lips to his.

Klavier instantly felt a fire start up inside of him that warmed him to his very core. He cupped her cheek lightly as he kissed her back, drawing her closer into his arms, but she pulled back and stared at him. Her emerald eyes were emotional and deep and he suddenly felt as though she was breaking through his barriers and seeing a side to him that he always kept hidden, even from his own perusal.

"Klavier…" she whispered and the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

"Ema," he said softly.

"It's time to let me go," she said, her voice turning matter-of-fact.

Klavier blinked. What had she just…? And then, when her words sunk in, the intensity was gone and hilarity bubbled inside of him that he channelled into a smirk as he drew her closer still. "And why would I do that, Fräulein?"

"You said you'd let me go!" Ema cried, putting her hands against his chest and pushing.

"When did we make that arrangement?" Klavier asked, enjoying the annoyed look on her face and had it not been for the hint of enjoyment in her eyes, he might have actually complied.

"You said you'd let me go if I kissed you!" Ema scowled. "I did now – "

"Incorrect," Klavier interrupted, shaking his head and running his hand down her back. He grinned when she shivered. "I said I would stop torturing you if you kissed me."

"Well, you're still torturing me!" Ema growled.

"One more kiss will free you from my arms," he said with a wink and Ema's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"_What_?"

"One final kiss," Klavier whispered.

"Okay," Ema said and it was years of practice that aided Klavier in hiding the surprise he felt at her immediate agreement. "But you have to close your eyes."

Klavier nodded, pleased that she'd agreed although a little taken aback by her steady tone. His eyes shut, Klavier could only feel her movement and she leaned in a strange direction; she put pressure on his right hand, indicating she was leaning to the side. However, just as he was about to look to see what she was doing, he felt something hit the side of his face gently but with firm impact. German curses fell from his mouth as Ema leapt from his grasp and he looked around to see the book she'd been reading land by his side.

"That'll teach you!" Ema snapped at him. She was standing a few feet away from him, her hands on her hips.

"There was no need to hit me with your book, Fräulein," Klavier said, rubbing the side of his head. Although his voice was formal, he was laughing inwardly; what a fool he'd been for thinking Ema Skye would give in that easily. He almost deserved to be attacked for that gullibility.

"Hmph."

She spun on her heel and stalked away. Klavier watched her with a smile, appreciating the way her body swayed. She stopped at the doorway, turning back to look at him and there was the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "Night, fop-face."

Without waiting for a reply, she swept through, leaving Klavier with a wide smile and a warm heart. His worries temporarily forgotten, he leaned back into the sofa and interlocked his fingers behind his head, looking up at the ceiling

"Goodnight, Ema Skye."

* * *

The Medium Valley looked identical to the pictures he'd seen – the row of houses, the impressive Fey manor and the mountain in the background. But there was something in the air that no photo could have captured; it was as though he'd stepped through time and into another world. Having lived in cities such as Berlin and LA, Klavier was used to modern buildings and technology. He should have considered Kurain backward… yet he didn't. There was something old and aged about the place, that was for certain, but in a different way. The relics hanging from the rock, the old payphone and the way the dust flew up with every step he took only added to an ancient wisdom that seemed to shroud the village.

As Klavier looked on the large manor, his mind churned in an attempt to make something of what he was doing. He'd come close to doing this once before but he'd had Simon with him that time and the attack on Ema had pushed aside the whole idea. Yet, last night when he'd been basking in the relief that Rafael would never get the chance to escape, one name had popped in his head that could help him answer so many questions. It had made him just as uncomfortable as the first time and, if truth be told, maybe even more so. He was alone now and nothing was distracting his mind.

For the first time in years, Klavier was nervous. So nervous, in fact, that he wished he'd brought Simon along. He had to remind himself that in light of recent events and the questions he needed to ask, Simon's presence was not appropriate. Klavier had no idea how Simon would handle the fact that he had a daughter, nor that Gale had left him because of Lana and that she had hidden it. Most of all, he would need to know that Gale had planned her death…

As it always was, Klavier put himself in Simon's shoes and wondered how he would feel if Ema had done the same thing. After those years of torturous pain and restless guilt, to find out that the very foundations of it all were made of something other than you believed…

To realise that there was so much more to her actions thank you thought? That the fear he had believed to be there had been pure courage, that the uncertainty in her eyes had only been a defeated acceptance…?

Klavier couldn't comprehend what his own reaction to that would ever be, let alone Simon's.

And so, with all this in mind, Klavier continued his advance on the Fey home. Another insecurity hit him – he hadn't researched the ways of the Kurain Chanelling Technique the way he usually did – his knowledge was adequate at best. He knew there were various techniques created by other mediums but the Feys were the most renowned for their supernatural power. Still, what of the spirit? What if it didn't want to interact with the living? Did it have a choice or did the power of the medium surpass the will of the soul?

"No, Lauren, tips remember? Your fingers should touch symmetrically at the tips!"

Klavier was distracted by the voice and he turned to see a slender young woman leaning over an even younger girl as she sat on the ground, her hands brought together and a scowl on her face.

"But it's too hot out here, Miss Pearl!" she complained. "Why can't we train inside?"

"You know why," Pearl replied gently. "Now come on. I want to see those – oh!"

Klavier smiled at her as she gasped and a hand swiftly moved to cover her mouth. She stared at him for several moments before muttering something to Lauren and approached him. There was a shy smile on her face and her hands were folded.

"Welcome to Medium Valley, Mr Gavin," Pearl said kindly. "My name is Pearl Fey. I'm Mystic Maya's cousin. She's been expecting you."

Klavier inclined his head and flashed her his famous smile. "_Danke_ Fräulein," he said. "It was gracious of you to receive me upon such short notice."

Pearl blushed but didn't say anything. She gestured for him to follow and he did so, letting her lead him through an entrance into a large room. For such a space, the amount of belongings were modest – an average-size TV, a small dining table and some shelves with what he assumed were robes.

Standing by those shelves was the young woman that he recognised as Maya Fey. She was clad in white robes, separate to all the other acolytes and their uniform. He supposed it was to cement her status as the Master. She glanced over her shoulder at them and turned around with a bright smile on her face.

"Hello Mr Gavin, it's so great to have you here!" she chirped, her hands pressed together in a greeting. Klavier was charmed by her openness as well as surprised – he knew her friendship and loyalty to Phoenix Wright ran deep and he'd expected a negative reception.

"It is an honour to be here," Klavier said in response. "And as I was saying to the Frä – Miss," he amended, remembering Maya didn't understand German, "Pearl here, it is extremely gracious of you to receive me thus. I apologise for my rather last-minute call."

"Not to worry," Maya said with a laugh. "I'm not at all busy today. Pearly," she said turning to her cousin, "why don't you get Mr Gavin something to drink?"

Pearl nodded obediently. "What would you like, Mr Gavin?"

"Water will be most welcome," he said and she nodded again before walking off. He watched her for a second and, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Maya watching him.

He had no doubt that while she was very hospitable, she was not indifferent to him. Having been saved countless times by Phoenix Wright (something Klavier couldn't discount), he was certain that her allegiance and devotion to the former attorney was as strong as it could be. After all, she _did _owe him her life. Klavier assumed that accepting his request had been her professionalism and maybe the friendliness was a part of it.

Now, there was a little part of him that was agitated; Maya Fey seemed to trust in Phoenix as was evidenced by the fact that she still regarded him a friend. He had seen that at Lana's engagement party. The unease that had been awoken by Edgeworth's words was now being prodded more and more as he met Wright's friends. He couldn't deny that Wright had presented forged evidence but neither could he deny the proof of something amiss – the fact that so many well-thought people trusted in him. Of course, he couldn't put much store by the von Karma name nor could he really hold an ex-convict such as Diego Armando in high esteem. But Edgeworth, Lana and Ema Skye, Maya Fey…

And in the background of all of this lay the one question that curled through his mind like black mist; why had Kristoph befriended Phoenix Wright after having helped to take his badge away? Why had he spoken out against the disbarment? Klavier had told himself it was because Kristoph simply hadn't wanted Phoenix to defend a guilty criminal but had never meant for it to go as far as it had. He had told himself it was because Kristoph, in his kindness, had felt immense guilt at the belief that he'd had a hand in the fall of Phoenix Wright and the orphaning of Trucy Enigmar.

But now Kristoph himself was in prison and Klavier knew what type of people his older brother had been defending. That excuse no longer held water. Once again, he was left with an unanswered question and another chilling similarity between Kristoph and their father.

"Mr Gavin?" Maya's voice broke through his daydream. He blinked then smiled at her before noticing that Pearl had returned to the room and was holding out a glass of water.

"My apologies, ladies," he said, taking it from her and relishing the coldness of the drink as it moved down his throat. "This water is deliciously cold."

They both beamed. Pearl bowed, taking her leave and Klavier nodded at her before Maya gestured towards the double doors.

"I'm sorry but can you take off your boots? It's just that it's a sacred room," Maya explained in an apologetic tone. Klavier complied. "Thanks. Let's go in!"

Klavier followed her and watched as she closed the door shut behind them. His attention was drawn to the dark room, lit only by candles and embellished with runic folding screens, plants and a huge space in the centre of the room with a mat.

"I know it's a bit dark in here," Maya said, moving across the room, "but it helps me to concentrate better."

"Whatever you need," Klavier said.

"Now I just need you to sit on the floor in front of me," Maya said while she steadied herself on her knees.

Klavier lowered himself to the ground feeling uncertain and a little foolish. He set the glass down on the floor beside him. "Is there any way in particular you need me to sit?"

"Nah," Maya waved dismissively and Klavier's mouth twitched in amusement; her colloquial manner made him feel very comfortable. "We used to have the client sit like us too but it's not necessary for you guys. I think one of my ancestors probably had arthritis and just wanted others to suffer as much as she did."

Maya grinned when Klavier laughed and sat down, at ease. As soon as he was seated, she clapped her hands together.

"Now, I need some information. Don't worry," she added seeing the look on his face. "Just stuff to ensure that the channelling goes well."

Klavier nodded. "In retaliation, I will have to have your signature on a gag order. Just as a precaution." He was grateful that he'd had the initiative to bring one.

Maya nodded, seemingly not offended. "That's perfect. We can do that after. Now, first things first. It helps if I have a visual of the person I'm summoning. You wouldn't happen to have a picture, would you?"

Klavier nodded, pulling one out of his jacket and held it out for her. Maya plucked it from him and stared at her for a few minutes before speaking.

"She's so pretty," Maya said, setting it down on the floor before her.

Klavier nodded. "Indeed, she is."

"I know she probably isn't but I have to ask anyway. She's not violent, right?"

"No."

"And she's not likely to get aggressive?"

"No."

"Was she murdered?" Klavier nodded. "How?"

"Is that important?" he asked, not wanting to think about it.

"I'm afraid so, Mr Gavin," Maya said, her friendly face now grave. "The cause of death can make a spirit harder to summon."

Klavier nodded unhappily. "What do you need to know?"

"Was she in a struggle?" Seeing Klavier's puzzled look, Maya elaborated. "Say the victim was taken hostage, she would know there's the possibility of death. She might try to fight for her life. Then there's the unsuspecting victim who might have stepped out of her house and been shot without any reason. The difference is whether the victim had any idea what was coming and therefore any chance to fight for her life."

"She knew she was going to die," Klavier said, his eyes fixed on the photo of Gale. "And she didn't struggle."

There was a short pause from Maya before she nodded and took a deep breath. "Lastly, did you know the victim?"

"We met once," Klavier said vaguely.

"Okay," Maya said, taking a deep breath. "Once I summon her spirit, she's going to be in complete control of my body. She might walk out of this room but seeing as how you say she's a benign spirit, it should be okay."

"Walk out?" Klavier echoed, startled. "Do you not usually lock the chamber you are channelling in?"

"We used to," Maya said with a smile. "And we still do if the spirit was aggressive in any way before their death but the benign ones are okay. Being summoned can be traumatic for them and talking to them can be a lot easier if they're allowed outside. This room is a little dark and dreary and I bet it doesn't help their mood."

Klavier was impressed at her maturity. "You have made some changes in your practice, if I have done my research right."

Maya smile was wide as she nodded, clearly happy he'd noticed. "I have! I kinda thought we needed to stop being so stuffy about things. If the spirit isn't mean why shouldn't they get to feel the fresh air? I know I would! And Sis mentioned it would be a good idea too…"

Maya was momentarily lost in her thoughts. Klavier was a little taken aback; he knew that her older sister, Wright's one-time mentor, had been dead for almost a decade now. It was odd that Maya was still able to talk to her deceased sibling.

And suddenly, he wished he was able to do it too… he could see Mother again…

"Okay then," Maya said and Klavier's attention snapped to her. "Just take a deep breath. Relax… And if you hold your hands like this…" Maya demonstrated by pressing the tips of her thumb and index fingers together while the rest were turned inwards. Klavier glanced at his rings, wondering if he should take them off and then decided it wouldn't make a difference.

"Now, you just need to close your eyes."


	16. Sacrifice

Sacrifice

'.'

She loved me before my birth,

And will love me beyond death.

She has given me my worth

With every single breath.

.'.

"_Simon!" Gale cried as she opened the door and found her friend lounging against the wall. He was smiling widely and, upon her surprised exclamation, he opened his arms for her. Gale didn't hesitate – she flew into him, nearly knocking him backwards and he laughed as he pulled her in a tight hug. _

"_When did you get back!"_

"_My luggage is in the car," Simon said as he cocked his head to the side. "My flight landed an hour ago and you've been my first stop." _

"_Get in here!" _

_She stood aside to let him in but he hesitated and she smiled, understanding his uncertainty. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist gently and pulled at him. "David's out."_

"_I don't think he – "_

"_Simon," she interrupted sternly. She seemed ready to lecture him but changed her mind. She hopped past him and as he made to turn around to see why she'd positioned herself behind him, he felt her hands press against his back, pushing him forward. "I said, __**move**__!"_

_Simon smirked, standing his ground, pushing back against her and sniggering when she let out a growl of frustration. Then she was by his side again, glowering up in his face fiercely. _

"_David's okay with you seeing me," Gale told him and he raised an eyebrow sceptically. "I'm serious! We had a talk. He said even though it seems like something's up between us – " (Simon scoffed) " – he trusts me."_

_He let out a bark of a laugh. "Ha! That's more like it."_

"_So, come on!" Gale insisted, taking his arm again. "Come inside, you great lump."_

_He stared at her for a moment longer before nodding and gesturing for her to step through first. She rolled her eyes but did so, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he was following. Simon shut the door behind him and gave the apartment a once over; everything was the way it had been when he left. _

_It had been 5 months since he'd last seen the inside of her home and every day he'd spent away from her had been painful beyond belief. It had taken every ounce of his will-power to keep himself from hopping on the next flight back home, back to her… Yet, as he stood here, sweeping his surroundings for the subtle hints of her unique touch – a picture on the table in one corner, a glass vase housing fresh flowers – it was almost as if he'd never left. It was all the same. And as he turned back to Gale, it was with a subconscious hope that she would never change either._

"_How are things with you and David?" he asked tentatively._

_Gale smiled. "Oh you know David. He gets angry, has a tantrum and then he's okay again. But we had a talk and things have been better ever since."_

_Simon was torn between relief for her and misery at the fact that his absence was what was best for her. I should leave, he thought to himself. I should just go away and not come back._

_Gale appeared to read his expression because she put down the clothes she'd taken to folding and faced him squarely. _

"_Things didn't get better because you left, Simon," she said gently. "They got better because David decided to listen for once rather than shout. And I made it very clear that while it's his choice whether or not to make amends with you, you're my friend and I'm not going to sacrifice our friendship."_

_Simon raised an eyebrow, trying not to show the immense relief he felt at these words. "What, he didn't give you a whole speech about how he should come first?"_

_Gale giggled. "I think he might have done if I hadn't got in there first and told him that asking someone to sacrifice a friendship is just selfish."_

"_Yeah, well, David's always been selfish," he muttered. He waited for the usual reprimand he got whenever he really did speak his mind but this time, Gale simply rolled her eyes and shook her head._

"_He's not selfish," she said. "He's just not…" she paused as if to find the right word. _

"_Mature? Selfless? Nice?" Simon offered and Gale threw a shirt at him. Laughing, he caught it and waved it before he began to fold it, joining her in her task._

"_You hungry?" she asked. "You must be so tired."_

"_Tired doing what?" Simon laughed. "Sitting in some big-ass seat in first class and drinking wine?"_

"_Oooh, well, SOR-ry, Posh-Guy!" Gale said mockingly. "I had no idea upper class people had such – "_

_Her words were drowned out by the sound of his laughter. He had missed that expression on her face so much – that mocking tone, the mischievous eyes, the cheeky smile… _

"_So, what did you get me?" Gale asked and Simon glanced at her._

"_What do you mean?" he asked, leaning down to pick up another shirt and dropping it when he realised it was David's. He moved to a pair of jeans instead that he knew were hers._

"_Simon Lowes!" Gale cried. "Are you telling me you were in Europe all this time and you didn't bring me back a single souvenir?"_

_Simon shrugged non-committally. "Meh. There's nothing good there except a couple of hot women."_

_Gale smacked him. "I hope you haven't broken anyone's heart!"_

"_I hope I have," Simon said casually. _

_He leaned down and picked up another piece of clothing although he wasn't sure whose it was or even what it was – his attention was on Gale who, he could see from his periphery, was gaping at him. He continued on in silence and when the quiet extended, he glanced at Gale._

"_You met someone!" Gale gasped and he could hear the delight in her voice._

"_Calm down, mi amica," Simon laughed. "I met a lot of people and I'm interested in none of them."_

"_Oh." She pouted and he laughed again. "So you didn't get me anything?"_

"_And since when has Gale Sanders become such a gold-digger, hm?" Simon teased and her eyes widened indignantly. _

"_You know full well I was joking!" she scolded._

_Simon grinned. "Well, in my defense, you never got me anything for my birthday!"_

_She paused. "Fair point," Gale acceded. "What would you like?"_

_Simon cocked an eyebrow. "You know I won't hold back."_

_Gale rolled her eyes. "Ask me, Simon."_

"_I want your lips…" he leaned down and tapped his cheek with his finger, "…on here."_

_Gale pushed him away. "I see Europe hasn't dulled your roguish behaviour!" she laughed._

"_I'm on better behaviour," he said, flashing her a grin. "I only offer myself to one woman now."_

_He could see her expression change when the serious undertone of his words registered. Her smile faltered and she turned away to resume her task. _

"_You'll find someone, Simon," she said quietly._

_He was shaking his head. "It won't happen," he said. He was staring at her but she ducked her head to hide behind her hair. "It can't. You don't understand."_

_He waited for her response but she was quiet. She continued on with her folding, with him watching her and just as he was about to leave, she spoke again breaking the tension. _

"_Jeice visited two weeks ago."_

_It was always like this: he made a comment that was beyond the boundaries she'd set and she would skim over it with a grace he'd never seen. It only made him love her more. Now, when she changed the topic, the only feeling that swept over him was relief. With a smile, he moved back to help her._

"_Jeice, huh?" he asked. "Bet that was fun."_

"_Yep," she replied. "Brought all his kids along too."_

_He laughed at the exasperation in her voice. "Exhausted you did they?"_

"_You've no idea!" Gale said with a laugh. "Lisa chased me with a blunt pizza cutter!"_

_An image of the 4 year old chasing Gale with the instrument of her doom made Simon roar with laughter and Gale joined in, slapping him._

"_You should have told her off!" Simon chortled._

"_She's a kid," Gale argued. "I figured I'd let her scare me a little. Plus, she'd been here for about 2 weeks and I think she was sick of my company. Anybody would be!"_

"_I wouldn't," Simon waved her off._

"_You would."_

"_Whatever."_

"_Would!" Gale said, throwing down the clothes and rounding on Simon who'd blocked his ears with his hands._

"_I'm not listening!" he shouted and Gale grabbed at his wrists, trying to pull them away from his head. "Gale is hot! Gale is hot! Gale is hot! Gale is –"_

"_SIMON!" she shouted through her laughter still tugging on him. He let loose his arm and having yanked particularly hard, Gale lost her balance. Simon grabbed her, pulling her upright, and she fell against his chest. _

"_Come mi sei mancata," he murmured looking deep into her eyes._

_Gale gently pressed her hands against him, steadying herself and moved away. She glanced at him fleetingly before turning away again. Simon's composure was shaken by the encounter and the question he'd been mulling over for so long burst from his lips._

"_Are you going to have his kids?"_

_Gale stopped what she was doing and turned to him slowly. "Simon…" she said, her voice deliberate. "You'll find someone one day, I promise you. And when you do, you'll be the happiest man alive."_

_Simon shook his head, unsure whether she had just given him the answer he'd been dreading._

"_I told you," he said in a low voice. "You'll never understand."_

_She just turned away from him and he could see that she was shaken by the open show of his love and even though he knew it was in vain, he couldn't help but wish that today was the day she would turn around and say that she felt the same. When she didn't, as always, the pain of her silent rejection hit him. _

"_I should go," he said heavily. "Whatever he said to you, David's mind changes quicker than the weather, I don't think he'd be too thrilled to – "_

"_He won't be back for a while," Gale said and there was a catch in her voice that caught his attention. Instantly, all of his concerns were washed away and forgotten._

"_You two didn't argue did you?" Something in him refused to believe her when she shook her head. __"Gale…" Simon started slowly. "Where's David?"_

_When Gale didn't answer straight away, he scrutinised her. His eyes darkened when he saw the stiffness of her posture. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to look into her expression. She was smiling but he'd seen the uncertainty and tension slip under her happy disguise. "He's visiting a friend."_

"_What friend?" he asked her steadily._

_The dark cloud of his temper rose out over the horizon when she wouldn't meet his gaze; she tried to pull out of his grasp but Simon wasn't letting go. In her surprise at his use of force, Gale made the mistake of looking up – and the grief in her eyes told him the one thing he hadn't been expecting._

"_Gale," he said softly. "I've just spent 5 months in another country so that I could give you guys the space he wanted. I left you in his care. Tell me he's not been treating you the same?"_

"_Of course not, Simon," Gale said, forcibly pulling away from him. "Would he have said he trusts me if he was being the same?" _

_But she still never met his gaze. _

"_Then why are you upset?" Simon demanded. If David had hurt her…_

_The thought died instantly as another occurred to him. Was it possible that the anxiety in her eyes was her fear at how David would react to Simon's return?_

"_Is it because I'm here? Will it cause trouble? Just say the word, Gale. You know I'll be gone – "_

"_No!" Gale snapped, rounding on him._

_Simon's eyes widened at the boundless desperation in her voice, the naked panic in her eyes. He stood frozen at the sight of her and he could see that, for this split moment, she had lost control. In that second, Simon knew that he was seeing deeper into her mind and soul than he ever had. _

.'.

_Irony is Fate's greatest jest – and one that beckons no genuine smile._

.'.

* * *

"You're a persistent one."

Klavier wondered if he was imagining things – so hard he'd been listening for anything to indicate it had gone okay. Maya hadn't told him when to open his eyes… and all the waiting had made him feel foolish and doubtful. There had still been a part of him that could not fully accept the validity of the supernatural. There was still something in this that was far beyond his comprehension and Klavier didn't deal well with that which he didn't understand. Maybe that's what it was that had made him so stubborn about solving this case.

"Afraid to look at me?"

There was no mistaking that voice; it was not as sorrowful as when he'd first heard it and now carried subtle hints of amusement. Klavier took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts to ready himself and, slowly but surely, opened his eyes.

She was more beautiful that he'd ever seen her. Gale's skin was still golden but radiant. Her eyes were no longer dark and sorrowful but still deep as if she was hiding something and they twinkled as Klavier regarded her in wonder. She was taller than Maya and the robe didn't fit right but it was adequate; she was slender and graceful when she stood, looking down at him with a gentle smile.

"I had no idea that one visit from me would bring you this far in such a short time," she said.

Klavier was frozen. He continued to stare at her from his position on the floor. He no longer felt like a young man of 24 but a little boy of 8 who was looking at his mother adoringly, although Gale was nothing like her in appearance. She was dark haired, dark-eyed and tanned while his mother had been fair, blonde and blue-eyed. But there was something so similar about the kindness of their smile, the understanding and gentleness of their gaze that he found himself numb with respect.

"A rock star lost for words," Gale said with a chuckle. "Isn't that something?"

Klavier blinked, regaining some control of himself and he opened his mouth to greet her but no words came out. He shook his head and cleared his throat as he moved to his knees. Suddenly, Gale extended her hand and Klavier couldn't help but agree with Simon – there was something eerily graceful about the way she moved.

"It's usually the man helping the woman up," Gale joked. "Not to emasculate you or anything, of course."

Klavier would have taken offense at such a comment but because she so reminded him of his mother, he could do nothing but chuckle in response. He took her hand as he rose to his feet. Gale's eyes widened in surprise when he suddenly dropped a soft kiss on the back of her fingers.

"It is an honour," he said, inclining his head.

It really was. Klavier was seeing her now with the truth in his mind and the sadness in his heart. This time, he knew what she had sacrificed and how she had loved.

Gale laughed and it was a tinkling sound, soft and melodic. "Despite all of the trouble I've caused you?"

He was shaking his head before she'd even finished. "I cannot allow you to accept the blame that does not belong to you."

Gale didn't say anything. Klavier watched her survey the room with curiosity. Did she know where she was? She already seemed to be aware of the fact that he'd been investigating her case yet the expression on her face was confused. How much did she know?

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You are standing in the Fey Manor, in Kurain Village and are being channelled by the Master of the Kurain Channelling Technique, Maya Fey."

"Hmm." She looked down at herself and was clearly displeased by her attire – her hands tugged at the front, trying to cover up as much of herself as she could.

"I need something bigger," Gale said crossing her arms. "I look like a hooker."

Klavier blinked. Then, without knowing where it was coming from, he found himself doing the last thing he thought he would do upon facing her – he was laughing. Some out of shock because he'd never expected her to talk this way but mostly in relief that this had worked. He was pleasantly taken aback by her. She was not at all the same as when he'd spoken to her first. There was an almost childlike quality to her now which was not wholly immature.

Gale's lips were lifting at the corners till she was grinning outright and Klavier could see why Simon had been intrigued by her straight away. Her smile was perfect and open and sunny and it was at complete odds with her dark features.

"Can I get something else to wear?" she chuckled. "I feel rather self-conscious."

Klavier opened the door and popped his head out. Pearl was sat at the far end of the room and she stood up instantly when she saw him.

"The lady requires a robe," Klavier said.

"I should probably take a look… so I can get an idea of her size," Pearl said, hesitant. "If that's okay."

Klavier nodded, seeing no problem with it. He opened the door fully and Pearl looked past him. Her eyes seemed to widen for a second and then she simply nodded and walked to a shelf beside the open door and started to rummage through it. He looked over his shoulder; Gale was facing away from him, still tugging at her clothes.

"I will wait for you out here," Klavier said. "Please take as long as you like."

He watched Pearl step inside, hand Gale a folded up robe, then step back out and close the door. She turned to Klavier, as he slipped his feet back into his boots, and her eyes were serious.

"Did Mystic Maya give you permission to step outside of the Channelling Chamber?" she asked. Klavier nodded. "Did she give you a time-frame?"

Klavier frowned. "She did not."

Pearl nodded. "That's okay. Mystic Maya usually has a period after which I have to ask the spirit to leave or perform the Spirit Severing Technique."

"Why did she not say anything to me?" Klavier asked.

"It's probably because she doesn't want to rush you." Just then, Gale opened the door tentatively and looked back and forth between him and Pearl. The young girl smiled at Gale kindly. "Please treat the body with respect, Miss," she said. "And please do not wander too far."

"Without a doubt," Gale said reassuringly. "Thank you."

Pearl flashed her one more smile before returning to her place. Gale looked at Klavier.

"You're taking all this really well," she said.

He looked away. "You would not have said that had you seen my reaction when I found your case in my brother's files."

There was a pause before she spoke again. "I'd like to go outside. Will you come?"

Klavier nodded and indicated for her to go first. She padded along barefoot and he was going to suggest she wear something before realising that had she wanted to, she would have said. He followed after her quietly.

Once she stepped outside, she took a deep breath and observed her surroundings. He watched her with interest. She was behaving as though it was the first time she was breathing the fresh air and seeing open spaces.

"It's been a while since I felt alive," Gale said, catching his expression. "Being dead can be very dull. I can see the curiosity in your face but we won't talk about it. Please don't ask."

Klavier nodded. He thrust his hands in his pockets and looked on ahead at the mountain as they walked together side by side. It felt odd beyond words to be standing next to her again (and in such circumstances) but he had to get used to it fast. Even though no time constraint had been put upon them, he doubted he had all the time in the world.

"I owe you a great debt," Klavier said. "I would not be here were it not for you."

"I'm glad you _are_ here," she said. "Although I don't fully understand exactly why you're _here,_ in _this _village and talking to a dead woman of all reasons."

He glanced at her and she was looking at him with twinkling eyes. "Are you not aware of my actions since you– since we last met?"

"Hmmm." She cocked her head. "I know that you visited Drake and you know quite a bit about me now. Even more so now since he gave you my diary."

"That is all?"

"That's all," Gale confirmed. "What I don't understand is _why_."

"Why?" Klavier echoed.

Gale stopped to look at him fully. He was dimly aware of some people peeking out of their houses but he didn't care. He was too focused on her.

"Why," she repeated. "Why are you investigating my death?"

"Is this not why you came to me?" Klavier said, puzzled. "Did you not want me to investigate it? Find out the truth?"

A light frown appeared between her eyes. "Klavier…" Her voice was kind and she was shaking her head. "I only came to you to stop you from doing what you were about to do."

Klavier considered that for a moment and looked away again. "Why?" He turned back to her with a serious expression. She was still staring at him. "Why did you stop me despite knowing whose brother I am?"

Again, she frowned except it was deeper this time. "Why would being Kristoph's brother mean you shouldn't live?" she asked. "Why would I let you die just because he defended Rafael?"

Klavier should have been surprised but he was only humbled. He'd heard too much about her, learnt too much of her actions to be taken aback by her selflessness, her goodness.

He felt a surge of anger towards his brother.

"Tell me everything," Gale said. "Tell me why you're here."

"I found your case in my brother's files while I was looking through them," Klavier answered simply. "I could not understand how you could have been dead for years when I had spoken to you not so long ago. And my brother's defense angered me. I had to know more." Klavier turned to her fully now but she was the one looking away now. "I had to understand the sadness I had seen in your eyes."

"I was sad that night," Gale answered, turning back to him, "because I'd been watching you for hours and I'd heard the whispers and the looks you received. I recognised so much in you that I knew once in another man."

"David?" Klavier said.

Gale glanced at him. "Yeah." She took a deep breath. "I heard your conversation with Drake. You've certainly gone to a lot of trouble to find out more about my life."

Klavier hesitated, unsure as to how to voice his next question. "Why do you not know everything?" Gale cocked her head as if she wanted him to elaborate further. "I was under the impression you knew everything."

_Because you're dead._

Gale laughed. "Death doesn't turn us omniscient, Klavier. At the beach, I heard the whispers of everyone that passed around you. I _was _eavesdropping for several hours. I got a lot of information on you." Klavier chuckled. "The dead are drawn to places or people pivotal to their lives. That beach was an important place to me."

Klavier looked away from the emotion that entered her eyes. He knew what she was remembering; he had a hunch the beach was where she and Simon had silently confessed their love.

"And I'm drawn to my family home because that's where my daughter lives – and my brother," Gale said.

"Is that how eternity is spent?" Klavier asked, curious. "Spending your life watching your loved ones?"

Gale shook her head slowly. "No. There's more, _but_," she added with emphasis and raised a hand, "we're not going to discuss that."

"Then you are here by choice?" Klavier enquired. "You do not wish for that something 'more'?"

"I do," Gale said. "This isn't the most pleasant existence."

"Forgive my inquisitiveness but what is holding you back?" Klavier asked.

Gale's eyes darkened and her face turned grave. "Rafael."

Klavier's insides instantly started to heat up. "He is not long for this world," he said coldly. "And I have made certain that he will not hurt anybody else ever again."

"His death won't rid the world of the danger he's capable of," Gale said and Klavier could have sworn her dark eyes turned even darker. He could see her tension rise and the playfulness she had emanated was gone. Before he could question her however, she turned to him with a weighty expression. "Kade was meant to finish the job after I was dead but he's died recently. Tell me what's happened. I need to know everything you know."

So Klavier did. She listened attentively and her expression tightened when Klavier recounted the sudden and suspicious manner of Kade's death. Gale was silent the whole of the time and he saw little change in her posture. Her hands remained folded before her, her arms overlapped, her walk slow and dignified and her head held high.

"Simon is in prison," Gale said.

"I am sorry."

"The only thing my plan managed to accomplish was putting Rafael in prison," Gale said softly. "And his death won't change anything. He'll leave behind a legacy as deadly as he is. Simon is in prison for nothing and Lana is separated from her father."

Klavier was alarmed by the dismay in her voice. "What do you mean by 'his death will not change anything'?" he asked. "We will have got rid of a criminal, ja?"

She didn't answer straight away. They weren't surrounded by houses anymore. The trees had began to get dense and they were closer to the foot of the mountain. The silence was getting thicker and Klavier could hear the sound of the birds and the rustle of wind in the leaves.

Gale stopped suddenly and turned to look at him. Her expression was set as if she'd made up her mind about something and Klavier steeled himself. This was it – this is what he'd come for.

"There's something few people understand about Rafael," she began. "He's relentless – chasing David's proven that. Can you see a guy like that going to his death without leaving behind a legacy? I wouldn't be surprised if he's commanded an entire legion of assassins to carry on hunting David. There's no limit to his insanity."

"Why does he want to kill David?" Klavier asked. "What did David do?"

"He was born," Gale replied simply. "Rafael's never liked sharing anything, least of all his parent's attention."

Klavier's eyes widened as he stared at her in shock. "He wishes to murder his brother because his parents…? But I was under the impression that they had always favoured Rafael anyway!"

Gale just shook her head. "I think in the beginning, when David was born, Rafael was afraid that his parents would forget about him. Obviously a newborn needs attention and a lot of it. Rafael's jealousy could have probably been prevented if his parents hadn't been so incompetent." Her eyes flashed suddenly and Klavier couldn't help but be intimidated by the anger that was evident on her face. "He went out of his way to make sure David was excommunicated from the family, probably just for his parent's love at first. But, as they got older, I'm guessing Rafael fixed his attention on the family heritage, in other words, the family business. His desire, along with his anger, just heightened until it started consuming him. In the end, I guess he just wanted to kill David so that he wouldn't have to worry about him anymore."

"I have never heard of sibling rivalry of this kind before," Klavier muttered.

"Nor I. When David told me, I was shocked. I was even somewhat inclined to believe that David was paranoid and it wasn't that bad…"

"Why did he leave you?" Klavier asked suddenly. He wanted to know the answer she'd denied everyone. "Why did David abandon you when he knew what – "

"He didn't abandon me, Klavier," Gale said quietly.

"He left you, did he not?" Klavier demanded, incensed. "Left you even though he knew what danger you were in!"

"David's not to blame," she interrupted. "And why he left isn't important."

"Why have you always covered for him?" Klavier asked, unable to let it go.

"Because everyone's intent on turning him into a scapegoat. What happened with me and David wasn't what everyone assumed it was. And it's not his fault that Rafael was after him – he's as much a victim as anyone else. In fact, he's more so. Ask yourself how it feels to know that your brother wants you dead."

Klavier clenched his fists, unwilling to give David the courtesy of his empathy. He turned away angrily and pounded the nearest tree with his fist. Silence fell between them again and the thoughts in his mind began to take over.

Again a sick feeling entered his stomach and he was taken back through time to his own family. There were similarities between the Rainsford family and his own that he couldn't deny. Although there had been no rivalry between himself and Kristoph, it had been so, from the beginning, that his brother had always received their father's attention. And their mother had loved them both to no end.

Stefan Gavin had been a strong man, a successful man. Klavier's earliest memories were of a father that had no time except to teach Kristoph the etiquettes that befit the Gavin name. He had taught Kristoph the importance of elegance and strength of mind and, above all else, to have pride in one's work. There had been no room for failure and certainly no room for his younger son. Cast aside and shunned, Klavier had been so immensely loved by his mother that he'd barely felt the sting of his father's indifference.

And now that he remembered his own past, Klavier couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for David Rainsford and the loneliness he must have felt. After all, while he, Klavier, had had his mother's love, David's fortune had not been so golden.

Still, a part of him couldn't forget the fact that it was because of David leaving that he was having to talk to Gale like this. It was because of David that she was no longer there for her daughter, for Simon… By Klavier's reckoning, a family had been torn apart and if Gale wasn't willing to tell him, he'd find out some other way.

A hand suddenly touched his arm and he turned to see Gale standing by his side, the softness back in her features.

"David's not to blame," she repeated. "I made this choice. I knew what I was doing."

"Why?" Klavier asked, distressed, looking into her eyes. "Why did you not turn to the police? Why did you not come to us? This is what we are here for! It is our job to protect people like you!"

Gale smiled. "I could have told the police, that's true. But Rafael's in custody now and people are still dying, aren't they?"

"Kade died," Klavier corrected, facing her fully. "One man."

"One man that you know of," Gale said.

"And how did your death help?" Klavier asked, distraught beyond control. He wasn't thinking about whether or not his words were hurting her. All he wanted was an answer.

Gale stared at him for a moment, her expression receding under a smiling mask and Klavier worried, for a split second, that she was going to disappear on him. But just as the worry hit him, she lifted a hand to touch his cheek the same way a mother would her son, and when she spoke, her voice was filled with compassion.

"I'm sorry you've had to bear such a burden, my friend," she said softly. "And you have done so much for us. Thank you."

Klavier didn't speak. His eyes were locked with hers and with every word that fell from her lips, he could see the closed gates of her eyes open up and her playfulness fell away completely. All that he'd seen that first night on the beach flooded the planes of her face and he was wishing he could rid her of those burdens and dry tears. He wanted to find the truth for her so that she could be in a place of light and beauty. He wanted to help her the way she had helped him.

"You've done so much…" Gale said, pulling her hand back. "And you've broken a few fingers," she smirked suddenly and Klavier found his own lips twitching reluctantly, "so I think the least I can do is give you the answers you want."

That tight band that had a habit of tightening around his chest of late was loosening again; he could breathe now and it was coming from the deepest part of him. He was deflating, his burdens dropping away and the questions that had been screaming at him ceased their cries.

"I was pregnant for over 2 months before I left Simon," Gale started and she was looking at the leaves of the tree nearby. Her eyes were unfocused as if she was swift losing her sense of time and place. "I wasn't sure yet so I didn't want to tell him till I knew for certain. I didn't want to give him false hope. I was on my way back from the doctors and I was finally going to tell Simon."

* * *

.'.

_Gale smiled as she re-called a conversation she had once had with Simon. It was strange to her now, to think of a past in which Simon had been her friend and David her partner. He had asked her if she was going to have David's children. _

_How odd Fate was._

_Here she stood with a hand over her stomach and an inner glow that was warming her every fibre._

_Here she stood, her eyes closed as she tried to decide whether she wanted to tell him casually or run into his arms like she once had done, this time, as his lover and the mother of his child – not just his friend._

_Here she stood, ignoring the people that walked around her as she stared at the street that housed her new home, where she knew a certain father-to-be was probably only just waking up._

_Indeed, Fate was odd._

_She flicked open her phone again. She wanted to ring him right now and scream it in his ear but she knew that this desire wasn't even an option. With a wide smile, she thrust it back in her purse and stepped through the doors of the store on her right. She wanted to buy Simon something. As soon as she was inside, her eyes fell upon layers of cards stacked against a wall. Another smile stretched across her face as she saw the 'You're Going To Be A Daddy' section._

"_I'll get him a card," she cheerfully muttered to herself and made her way to the quiet section to look at them. "That should put a smile on his face! I can be patient enough for that..."_

"_I had no idea Dave could induce such a reaction from women."_

_The smooth cordiality of that voice stopped her in her tracks. It had come from behind her but she didn't need to turn around to see the face of its owner. Nevertheless, disbelief, and a desperate hope that she was wrong, made her turn anyway. _

_He stood before the doors, straight and regal as ever she'd seen him. His eyes were shining and the smile that highlighted them was friendly to any passer-by but she could see its soulless nature. _

"_What are you doing here?" Gale asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Her hand fell to her stomach in a protective gesture and his eyes were drawn to it. _

"_I can't come to see you?" he asked with a smile as he approached her. His hands left their pockets and she took a step back, looking around for anybody she could call for help but they were shielded by the aisle and nobody was in sight. "Relax, Gale. I'm not here to hurt you." _

_Her first thought was of her baby and the shock of seeing him left her momentarily terrified. Her body was beginning to shake and she was edging away but he continued to draw near until he was right before her. His hand reached out and she gasped as it covered the one on her stomach. His blue eyes were boring into hers and he lowered his face until his lips were an inch away from her mouth. To anyone, he would have looked like her lover, claiming his rightful kiss. _

"_Where's Dave?" he whispered. _

_Gale didn't know what happened: it was as though hearing her ex-lover's name sparked a fire inside her. Her trembling ceased and with her rising temper came the strength that she needed. Putting all of her force into her arms, she tried to push him away and she managed to move him a little but his arm had snaked around her back and he held on tight. "Let me go," she hissed into his face, scanning his features with loathing. _

"_I'll let go as soon as you tell me where my brother is, sunshine," Rafael murmured._

"_Get your hands off me," she said coldly. Still he refused to let go and the shine of his eyes was intensifying but Gale had never been one to cower in fear and she wasn't going to start now. Although it lingered in the recesses of her heart, it was overshadowed by her determination to protect her baby – at all costs._

"_I haven't seen him in almost two years," she snarled "He left me. You're a little too late."_

_Rafael smiled indulgently, tapping her nose. She slapped his hand away._

"_You were the love of his life. Dave's too much of a desperate romantic to cut out all contact."_

"_Well that's how it is," Gale snapped, clawing at his hand but he just pulled her closer until she was pressed against the entire length of his body. Her skin had turned cold, her mind was numb, and all she could think of was how could this be happening __**now**__? How could this bastard have come to her now when she was finally moving on? _

"_Who are you so eager to see, sweetness?" he whispered against her ear. "It wouldn't happen to be Simon would it?"_

_Hearing the threat in his seductive tone, she felt a second surge of strength flow through her. Gale pushed against his chest hard and this time he moved away, fully, although his retreat was smooth. His smile didn't falter once and he cocked his head back as if considering her. _

"_Tell me where Dave is and I won't bother you anymore," he said and the cheer of his voice made her shiver in a reminder of his cold-bloodedness. "I know you're not lying about the first part but I know these things." He winked. "Love makes decision-making difficult after all. Tell you what – I'll wait for a while." _

_She sneered, ready to tell him that she didn't love his brother but he grabbed her arms and yanked her close again. Rafael brushed his lips against hers slowly and she shoved him but his grip was too strong; it was almost painful. _

"_I've already messaged you the number you'll need to contact me," he whispered against her mouth and she resisted the urge to slap him. Under any other circumstances, she would have done but she was too afraid for the life that was growing inside of her. They may have been standing in a public place but she knew Rafael wasn't daunted by anything as mundane as that. "I'll be waiting, beautiful."_

_And then he released her, gently and slowly. His eyes ran down her frame one more time and then he turned around and walked away. She watched him step out through the glass doors where he turned around and saluted her with another deceivingly friendly smile. _

_With shaking fingers, she dug inside her pocket and pulled out her phone. She needn't have – of course his message was there._

.'.

* * *

"_Did _you know where David was?" Gale paused – then nodded. "And you did not tell him?" Klavier asked, incredulous. "Even though it may have saved your life? Even if it meant you and your daughter and Simon could be together?"

"The only thought in my mind was that if I told him, aside from David, many other innocent people could get hurt, and it wouldn't really ensure our safety anyway."

"What – ?"

"It's of no relevance," Gale said and Klavier pressed his lips together unhappily. He was increasingly interested in David's reason for leaving her however before he could make any more of it, she continued her story and he snapped back to attention. "I didn't tell Simon. I'd guessed that Rafael was tracing all of my calls, my texts and was having me followed. I didn't want Rafael to know about Lana. I didn't want Simon to know about Rafael. I knew Simon would go after him and he would only get hurt. So I did the only thing I could do – I found a way to disappear."

"That is when you went to your brother," Klavier said.

She was running her fingers over a leaf. "I left Lana in his care. I'd made up my mind: I could have told Rafael where David lived and yes, he would have probably just killed him and left me alone. But the fact is, the world isn't big enough for both Lana and Rafael – one of them had to go. It was an easy choice to make. When I moved back, I realised I couldn't be with Simon anymore. My first reason was to protect him from Rafael's wrath – at least, it was meant to be."

"And the other?"

As she turned away from him, Klavier thought he saw a hint of shame creep into her features.

"How could I face him every day when I knew I was keeping Lana from him?"

"So you hid Lana from Simon to protect both of them," he said, his words slow with realisation.

She didn't answer but he knew he was right. Klavier rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. Now that he was hearing it all from her, part of him didn't want to know anymore. He was feeling burdened with sorrow. Yet he knew he couldn't stop now.

He had to know the truth.

"What was Kade's involvement in all of this?" he queried. "Your journal mentioned his contribution to your plan but he did not seem like a particularly good friend. He pleaded 'not guilty' at the trial."

"That's because he had to," Gale said and Klavier's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "He was never meant to be caught and if he was, he had to plead innocence."

"Please tell me why," he requested bluntly.

She took a deep breath and faced Klavier once more, looking determined and decisive. Gale held his gaze for a moment and then she started talking in a steady voice.

"This all starts with a man called Romano. He was the leader of a crime ring who fell under Rafael's rule about a decade, maybe more, ago. Nobody knew about it until he was eventually murdered by Rafael who took over the whole organisation and quite a few of the members left – David, Simon and Kade among them."

"Romano?" Klavier echoed. The name suddenly tugged at the corner of his mind, as if he'd heard it before. She nodded. Klavier stored the name away for a check later.

"Simon, David and Kade were associated with a crime ring?" Klavier asked, surprised when he realised what the second part of her statement meant.

Again she nodded. Klavier lowered his eyes to the ground. Of course it made sense; how else would David and Simon have known how to evade their enemies? How else would they get involved in such a mess?

"After Rafael got hold of the reigns," Gale continued, "he made it clear to David that the war between them was now to the death and any ex-members helping him were in danger too. Needless to say, David and Simon both disappeared. Rafael was putting a lot of effort into finding David then because he knew that it was now or never. David had several friends who'd left with him and Rafael wanted him dead before he had the chance to build up a rival organisation."

"Did he?" Klavier asked although he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

"No, he didn't. David had been pretty unhappy with Romano's antics and he was sick of the criminal world. When I met him, he was trying to change. He didn't tell me about his past straight away but it was obvious that something was up." Gale smiled. "Being a prosecutor, you may judge me for my decision to ignore his crimes when I found out."

"I do not judge you," Klavier disagreed, shaking his head. He smiled at her slightly. "You have given up far too much to ever be considered anything but good."

Gale smiled back before looking away at the leaves again. She reached up to them, running her hands through the lush greenery for a moment before continuing.

"I met Kade a few times, during my time with David, and we became good friends. After leaving Lana with Drake, I told him everything about Rafael, David and Simon. He, in turn, told me about Rafael's increasing power and strength in the underworld. He'd overthrown many other crime bosses by this time increasing his influence. It didn't help that his company – Cyrun – gave him access to important information about a lot of people. He's clever and he's ruthless and with that much knowledge he's just…"

"A bad combination," Klavier provided.

"I was worried about Lana. I'd managed to keep her secret from Rafael but like I said, he was gathering so much intel that I was sure he'd find out about her eventually. If he thought she was David's, she would have no chance and if he knew she was Simon's she was still in danger. I wanted him out of the way."

"And you wanted to put him in prison?"

She nodded. "Kade was gathering as much data as he could and we'd realised that even if we managed to get some evidence on Rafael first – which would have been extremely difficult – there was no way it would be enough to keep him behind bars."

A sick feeling rose in him. "That is when you decided to…"

"Kade wouldn't agree at first," Gale continued. "It took a while but I managed to bring him around to it." She saw the stricken look on Klavier's face and sighed.

_She insisted on getting herself killed. _He felt as though a metal fist had punched a hole into his gut, grabbed his insides and twisted them.

"I know what you're thinking, Klavier," she said. "But if this worked, my family and many others would be safe. I would have turned the world upside-down for them. Losing my life was nothing."

"Why could Kade not sacrifice himself?" Klavier lashed out savagely. "What kind of man allows a woman to – "

Unable to continue, he turned away from her and ran a shaking hand through his hair. Again, she placed a hand on his arm but he refused to look at her now.

"He tried," she said gently. "It would only have worked with me. He was in Rafael's good graces and we needed him there. Kade was going to manipulate Rafael's power from the inside. He had to destroy the foundations of the organisation and it would take far more than just sending Rafael to prison."

"I do not understand," Klavier said stiffly.

"Compared to Kade, what I had to do was nothing." She chuckled when Klavier growled. "Seriously."

"I will beg to differ with you on this matter."

"Well, don't be too hasty with that decision," she said. "Kade's job was to make sure that after I was dead, Simon wasn't hurt by Rafael. He had to make sure Lana remained concealed and David was never found. Then he had to find out who Rafael had appointed to run things."

"What?"

"Rafael is the head," Gale explained. "But he has someone else running things and you can be sure that whoever he's chosen will be just as bad as him. His chain of command is as strong as steel. The problem lies in the secrecy with which he operates. Kade needed to know how many people had to be taken out and who they were. He could only do that after gaining Rafael's complete trust. Helping him kidnap me was supposed to increase his rank in that hierarchy and then he was free to find out more."

"But he did not have the chance, did he?" Klavier said grimly.

"Apparently not," she said softly. "It was a complete oversight on our part. I just never thought Simon would tell the police."

"Why would he not?"

"We assumed he'd go after Rafael himself and Kade would deal with him."

"It is odd indeed that Rafael could be captured so easily by the police after evading us for so long," Klavier remarked.

"That's because Rafael never leaves witnesses and I can only guess that I have Kade to thank for this. I doubt without his intervention, Rafael would have left Simon alive. I suppose he thought Simon would kill himself after my death," she said, her eyes flashing again. "It just proves that even he can make mistakes. Simon would never do anything of the sort."

"Why did Kade agree to all of this?" Klavier asked. "He was taking a big risk."

"The same reason as me: he was protecting the people he loves," Gale answered simply. Suddenly, she looked at Klavier sharply as if something had occurred to her. "Simon _is_ safe isn't he?"

"Do not worry," he reassured her. "Nothing will happen to him." He paused. "I am sorry I was not able to save Kade."

"It's not your fault," Gale said. "Kade and I both knew the risks. I'm just glad that you've barred anyone from seeing Rafael."

"He will remain so until his execution," Klavier said darkly.

"And I'll be here to greet him," Gale muttered, her eyes narrowing and the very air around her appeared to grow cold. He didn't know if it was his imagination but the radiance that had emanated from her seemed to darken. He almost wanted to ask what she meant by that – did she have the power to punish him somehow? Before he could ask though, her expression was gone and her eyes were fixed intently on his again.

"I have one more question," Klavier said remembering something and Gale motioned for him to carry on. "You petitioned for a name change after Lana was born. Your name now reads Gale Lana Sanders."

"I did," she confirmed.

"Why?"

"Because even if everything went right with Kade, chances were that he would have died. But if it had all gone right, Simon would have been free and I hoped he would notice the change in my name. I named Lana after his mother."

Klavier was a little confused. "It was a trail to Lana?"

"Everything has gone wrong," Gale murmured, seemingly not having heard his question. "After all of our planning and both our deaths… Simon is in prison, Rafael's power is intact and Lana…"

He watched her raise her eyes to the sky and her expression was suddenly twisted in pain and frustration. She blinked rapidly and the possibility that she was trying to stem tears hit him so hard that he acted without thinking: he enclosed her hands in both of his and brought them to his chest. When she lowered her face, her eyes were clear but he could see the raw emotion shining in the dark pools.

It was his turn to talk now.

It was his turn to give her hope.

"I have spent restless days and sleepless nights in pursuit of this truth. I have wondered, with each new piece to this puzzle, why all of this happened to a woman like you." He shook his head. "Now that I see what you sacrificed and for what, my hope has been renewed. My strength is returned. You have saved my life… and my faith."

Gale smiled a little but didn't speak. She seemed to understand he wasn't done yet.

"You are an honourable woman," Klavier continued tenderly. "You have surrendered your life for those you love. I would respect you for that alone but you..." he took a deep breath as he considered his next words, "…remind me of my mother. She, too, gave up much for myself and my brother. I know what you have suffered."

It was as if the mention of his mother had brought her back from the memories Klavier buried deep inside his mind. He could hear her gentle whisper in his ear, as if she was guiding him…

"My mother used to say a_lles hat ein Ende, nur die Wurst hat zwei. _It means, all things – "

" – must come to an end," Gale said, her voice softly mixing with his.

He nodded. "So will Rafael and his legacy. Your sacrifice will be triumphant." He raised her hands to his lips and he kept his eyes fixed on hers as he pressed a kiss to her skin. "I will finish what you began."

Her only response was to caress his cheek. Her touch was cool and soft and his heart expanded from inside at the contact. His eyes closed of their own accord and he could feel the compassion exude from her, flowing through their connected skin. Her arm moved around his neck and then she was gently pulling him down until he felt her soft lips touch his forehead. His eyes opened to see her smiling face.

"_You _are an honourable man, Klavier Gavin," she whispered. "And your mother would be proud of you."

The young prosecutor's heart exploded and a bittersweet joy coursed through him. He had heard many people say the same to him but there was something about the way her breath wrapped around the compliment that laced it with a genuineness he couldn't ignore. All of the memories of the past arose from their graves and whispered at him and hummed long lost secrets and he could feel his spirit rise, guided by their song.

"Klavier."

The voice sounded far away, as if it was trying to reach the mountains of his mind behind which he'd retreated but the music seemed to be ebbing and he remembered that he had a task to do and he couldn't afford to get lost in his thoughts.

"Klavier…" Gale's voice sounded far away even as he focused on her. He was alarmed to see that the woman before him seemed to be changing, her form shrinking so slowly that one might not have noticed were it not for the clothes that hung increasingly loose around her. "Kade's journal…"

"Gale!" he exclaimed, reaching out to her in panic. Her skin was lightening and he could see her features shifting ever so slightly, losing some of their sharpness. He finally understood what was happening: intentionally or not, she was leaving Maya's body.

"Keep Simon safe…" Her voice was faint now and sounded younger and even farther away than before. Klavier grabbed her arms as she stumbled. He lowered her body to the ground and she gave him a faint smile before brushing a finger across his forehead. "I miss him so..."

Her sentence faded until there was little left of the woman in the features and before long he was gazing into Maya's exhausted face.

The spirit medium blinked for several seconds, bemusedly staring into his face then turned her attention to her hands. She wiggled her fingers as if trying to bring back sensation to them and sat up. Klavier watched her trying to get to grips with her surroundings and he knew he should have helped her up but he was struggling with a turmoil of emotions.

Something in Gale's last words had broken his heart.

There was something in the way she had collapsed in his arms that echoed of her death in Simon's embrace.

And for the second time in his life, he felt as though he'd lost a close friend… but this time, inexplicably, he also relived the loss of his mother.

* * *

Come mi sei mancata - I missed you


	17. Collision

Collision

Ema had woken to an empty house. She'd been in the kitchen for a long time slowly munching on toast while waiting for Klavier to wake up. It wasn't like him to sleep in and she wondered if he was okay before reminding herself that one late morning didn't mean something was necessarily wrong. However, when the clock hit 9AM she sighed realising she'd probably missed him. somewhat disappointed (and annoyed with herself for feeling so) she got ready and, picking up the necessities, made her way out of the house. One of the officers outside approached her, leading her to his car. Either Deston or Klavier – she didn't know who – had told him never to let her drive anywhere alone if they weren't around.

He dropped her off at the precinct: she figured it was probably a good idea to show her face at the office (just to appease her grumpy captain) before heading out to meet Deston like she'd been doing ever since her attack. The ride to work was silent (she was used to being blanked) but when she made her way through the building half an hour later, she found that people were doing everything _but _blanking her. She frowned at the furtive glances and the hate on the faces of the women which had now been updated to outright loathing. She brushed it off. Ever since the tabloids had started publishing stuff about her and Deston, she'd been on the receiving end of far too many angry looks and biting remarks. Here at the precinct, where everyone thought she was living with Klavier _and_ Deston, the behaviour had only escalated.

At times like these, she was glad she didn't care about crap like that.

It was when she reached Criminal Affairs that her analytical antennae started buzzing. Even the men were giving her odd looks. She frowned at them openly as she made her way to the office, glaring at the young man who paused in his task to stare at her.

"Skye!"

She whipped around and saw her grouchy boss standing in the doorway. She didn't know if she was grateful that he still looked as moody as ever (at least he wasn't being weird). She threw daggers at the officer one last time before she marched into the chief's office. He moved behind his desk and picked up a document which he threw at her, along with a pen.

"Cavatin faxed this over. You gotta sign it and then you're officially in his employee for the duration of his case or until he lets you go. You'll be reporting to him for this. Some of your work has been reassigned to others as per his request."

Ema had been expecting this. Deston had informed her of it beforehand so she silently did as he asked. She'd barely finished before he snatched it out from under her and dismissed her. Too used to his rude manner, Ema walked out unfazed but the attention she got again made more sense to her now. Word had probably got around that she was working with Deston.

_As if this is more shocking than being in a relationship with him._

"What?" she snapped at the closest ones. "Am I the only one to ever work with Deston Cavatin? God, get a _grip_!"

Without waiting to see if they'd actually gone back to work, Ema marched right across the vast room and out the door, making her way down the hall to the prosecutor's office. She went past many doors before she reached Klavier's closed one. She frowned. Klavier had taken to closing himself away with increasing regularity since Daryan's trial. She wondered if it was because of the case he was working on. She took a deep breath, trying to rid her face of the little smile that was playing on her lips.

She hadn't had a chance to see him much for the past few days and if truth be told (which it never would be), she'd missed the glimmerous fop with his stupid come-ons and tricks to snatch a kiss. She giggled when she remembered hitting him with her book. She had been mortified that he'd tickled her and reduced her to a heap of giggles but all the while she'd enjoyed herself in a weird sort of way.

Most of all, she couldn't deny the tension that seemed to be growing between them – they laughed and joked and still she wasted far too many of her precious Snackoos on him but there was something else there. It was the remainder of a challenge that highlighted the declaration of war he'd made and his behaviour made her think that while he wasn't as harsh as he'd initially intended, he hadn't given up. She saw the way he looked at her – like he was trying to find ways to crack her and though very much aware of it, she was powerless to stop it. All she could do was hope to take it at her pace while attempting to inject some sort of sense into things.

Ema took another deep breath and rapped her fingers on his door. Without waiting for an answer, she opened it and walked right in as was her custom. Klavier was at his desk, actually pouring over paperwork for once. A frown was on his face as he concentrated on reading the documents. When he glanced at her, the frown smoothed over but he didn't smile as he usually did.

She stopped in her track when he leaned back in his chair and regarded her with what could only be described as a cool expression. She waited a few seconds for the usual flirtations to kick in along with the smile that normally accompanied it. When neither came, however, she cleared her throat.

"Morning," she said and he inclined his head, still silent. "I mi—waited for you this morning but you'd already left."

"Ja," was all he said. Ema shifted her weight, increasingly uncomfortable with the distant, expressionless look in his eyes.

"Um, well… I just signed some papers that Des—"

"Fräulein," he interrupted and she couldn't help but feel a bit disturbed at the way he'd addressed her. She'd been getting used to 'Ema' and with this, she couldn't help but feel something was wrong. "I am aware of your current situation. I received the paperwork. Of course, one might say it is too soon for you to return to work but the decision rests with you. Was there anything else?"

Ema's face must have given away her rising confusion; she was frowning at him now and her eyes were scanning his features for anything that might tell her what was wrong with him. He was trying not to show it while making it painfully obvious. Inexplicably, she felt her heart start to race. She took a step forward, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists.

"Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.

His expression didn't falter. "Fine. Why would I not be?"

"It's just that you left without a word this morning and now you're—" She stopped when she realised what she was saying.

Klavier cocked an eyebrow at her and his smile was wintry. "I had no idea I had a duty to inform you of my movements."

Ema's face flushed. "Th-that's not what I meant," she stammered.

He rose from his seat and walked around his desk, leaning against the edge and crossing his arms. Ema watched him, frozen. A horrible feeling was washing over her.

"What _did _you mean, Fräulein Detective?" Klavier asked and there was no mistaking the mocking tone of his voice.

She stared at him for several seconds and she thought she probably looked completely foolish to him. Suddenly beneath his icy glare, Ema felt more self-conscious than she ever had. She was more aware of her stupid hair, tied back the same way it had been for the past ten years. She wanted to pull her lab coat around her, wishing she could hide inside it forever. The bag full of her scientific equipment suddenly felt heavier than it ever had before. Ema wanted to turn around and run, to escape the sneer in his gaze. She could almost hear his ridicule: _ahaha, funny girl… standing before me with expectations!_

And then she could hear her own thoughts as they reminded her that this was exactly why she'd avoided him in the first place, why she'd denied his advances and confessions. When she'd finally given something back he'd turned on her without rhyme or reason and stood in front of her now with a sarcastic expression. She had no idea what she'd done to deserve this behaviour.

It was this prompt that brought her back to her senses quickly. Her back straight once more and with a firmness of tone that she would have been proud of on any other day, Ema answered him calmly and coolly:

"Nothing, _Prosecutor Gavin_ – " she saw a shadow pass over his eyes " – I forgot who I was speaking to for a while."

She remained motionless when he pushed himself away from the desk and approached her. He looked into her eyes, his own darting back and forth between hers. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Her voice was frosty. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Ema made it two steps before he yanked her back to look at him. His eyes were ablaze and his features hard as marble. "I did not expect such behaviour from you, Ema," he whispered.

"That's rich," she spat. "_You_ act like an asshole and it's _my _behaviour that gets called into question!"

"I am not a man with patience for lies," he hissed and the anger finally spilled over into his face. "I do not take well to it, even from you. _Especially _from you."

"Lies?" Ema echoed incredulously.

What the hell was he talking about? She tried to think back – what could she have said that made him think she'd lied to him? And then it hit her. She recalled the paperwork she'd just signed and Klavier's clipped tone when he told her he knew about it. So – he was annoyed she hadn't told him that she was helping Deston. Her anger rose. Who the hell did he think he was? She was an independent woman and she didn't owe him anything, damn it!

"I wasn't aware we had a trust to breach," she said coldly. Klavier's face turned to stone. "What I do and who I do it with is my choice. _You_," she emphasised, injecting the word with as much venom as she could, "have no authority over my decisions."

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Would you care to test that theory, Fräulein?" he threatened.

Ema scoffed. "Go on. Fire me. I don't care, I never wanted this stupid job anyway." She paused waiting for him to do it but he only stared at her furiously.

With a contemptuous sound, she turned away and marched off, making sure to slam the door behind her as hard as she could. As she made her way down the hallway, she thought she heard a crashing sound come from his office but she was past caring. Her mind was a blur and though she was grateful, she didn't know how her feet carried her through the building and out the doors. She barely noticed the glances thrown her way as she sped around the building to the car park where she collapsed against the wall. The breath she'd been holding came out in a gasp and, with it, her face crumbled into misery. Klavier Gavin was making her cry with increasing regularity and this barely stemmed the tears that formed in her eyes. She'd humiliated herself in front of him – and he'd helped her do it. Right now she didn't know who she was more angry at; Klavier for having played her like a fool or herself for having fallen for it like an idiot.

* * *

Deston glanced at Ema briefly as he led her into his office before dashing across the room and rearranging some of the papers on his desk. Ema assumed it was classified material so she looked away to give him time to put them away. He'd picked her up soon after her encounter with Klavier and though she knew he sensed something off about her, he didn't pry. She was grateful for this. Then, as he'd walked her through the building she'd got looks here too but he tried his best to keep her attention from them as he engaged her in small talk.

She appreciated Deston more than ever.

"I've been looking over our friend's file," Deston said and she turned back to him.

Ema was grateful for this piece of information. She wanted to forget what had happened with Klavier and throwing herself into work was the only way she could do that. "And?"

"Remember I told you he murdered his brother's ex?" Deston reminded her and Ema nodded. "He's vicious. He kidnapped her, held her for several months before he tortured her to death."

Ema's stomach churned and she winced inwardly, her scientific mind imagining the many ways he could have inflicted pain on her. "What about his criminal record?"

Deston shook his head. "It's as clean as can be. He was set to inherit a family business. Incidentally, you'll be interested to know that the company basically does background checks on potential employees for job agencies all over the states. Of course, it means that Rainsford had the means to gather information on almost anyone and to erase his own misdeeds. The only link we have between him and the crime ring is that phone call."

"Well that makes sense," Ema muttered. "As if crime lords aren't already difficult enough to deal with, we get the one who has a giant eraser."

"There's a problem," Deston said with a sigh and she raised an eyebrow. "Remember when I told you there was evidence that the leader was a _woman_, not a man."

Ema frowned. "But…"

"Yeah," Deston said nodding. He seemed to understand what was on her mind. "Maybe 'father' is a code for something else. We're just flying on assumptions here. I think we need to talk with him ourselves."

"He's not going to tell us anything!" Ema scoffed, shaking her head. "Can't we talk to whoever prosecuted the case? Maybe they know something."

"It was Miss von Karma," Deston said and Ema remembered the whip-happy woman. "She said she had no knowledge of Rafael in terms of his involvement with any crime ring but she has some ties to Interpol so I asked her to poke around." He paused as if remembering something. "I don't know if she whipped me because she was excited or angry."

Ema raised an eyebrow. "She whipped you?"

"Oh yeah," Deston said casually. "She had lots of fun thrashing me."

"Hmph. Maybe I need one of those. Snackoos seem to be losing their punch."

Deston laughed.

"So, what are we doing now?" Ema asked.

"Speak to Rafael."

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous to ask a potential lord of the underworld if he's being bad?"

Deston regarded her with amusement. "Didn't stop you from jumping down my throat when you thought I was after Klavier's blood. _And _yours."

Heat rose to Ema's cheeks. "Shut up."

"I'm not going to confront him. I just want to talk to him. I know I probably won't get much out of him but it doesn't hurt to try. Even he's capable of slipping up. If not," Deston added, shifting some paperwork around on his desk and he frowned, as if reading off it, "there were two others who were imprisoned for this murder as accomplices. One of them pleaded guilty to the crime which means there's a chance talking to him won't be so useless."

"Let's go," Ema said instantly, half turned to the door. "The faster we do this, the better."

Deston however was still rooted to the spot. She glared at him, ready to chastise him for being slow, when she saw the look on his face; it was the battleground for warring emotions. Then suddenly, as if nothing had been wrong, he flashed a smile at her and gestured towards the door with all the flourish of a gentleman.

"After you, Em."

* * *

"Why the hell can't we see him?" Ema asked furiously. Her hands were on her hips and she was glowering at the warden who stood behind his desk, his arms crossed forbiddingly. "We're not thugs! What's he go—"

"I'm just following orders, ma'am," the warden interrupted, angering her further.

"Okay," Deston cut in, waving his hands and glancing between Ema and the warden in an attempt to calm her down. When she pursed her lips, he turned on the shorter man and sighed, running a hand through his head. "Can't you make an exception? It would be a great help."

"I'm sorry, Mr Cavatin," the warden apologised. "Not until I've asked permission."

"Permission from who!" Ema exploded again. "I'll—"

"That's fine," Deston spoke over her loudly. "What about Kade Richards?"

"Richards died very recently," the warden stated.

Ema saw Deston frown but it lasted only seconds before he spoke again. "Simon Lowes?"

The warden didn't answer straight away and she watched him through narrowed eyes. Her hand slipped down her hip, into the satchel that rested beside it, and a bag of open Snackoos accepted her stiff fingers as they picked at a couple of them. _If he doesn't let us see him, I'll Snackoo him to death and take the keys_, she vowed to herself. Fortunately, the warden (who might or might not have realised the danger he was in) nodded slowly and exhaled, picking up his keys from the desk.

"That should be fine."

Deston glanced at Ema with a lopsided smile and a shrug as he allowed the man to pass. Ema's irritated expression didn't subside as she and Deston followed after him. There was a silence in the few minutes it took to reach the right cell and she could hear the distant echoing of someone singing – or calling out.

She glanced at Deston sideways, suddenly realising that Daryan was on this block but his face gave nothing away.

Ever since she'd eavesdropped on the conversation between the two friends and misunderstood their meaning, she'd heard very little of the man. She recalled Deston saying something about Daryan helping him with an investigation – was it regarding Kristoph or the crime ring? She bit her lip, trying to remember. She wanted to know what part he had to play in this story but just as she was about to enquire into it, they halted to a stop.

Her eyes slid from Deston to the man lying down on the other side of the bars. He looked Latino but that was about all she could see – his head was elevated so his face wasn't in sight. When the warden called his name, Simon sat up instantly, his eyes turning to them.

Ema shivered.

It was clear that Simon Lowes had been a very handsome man once but the dark circles beneath his eyes, the gaunt face and the unshaven jaw dulled his looks. His hair was cropped short and his skin dry but they were nothing compared to what lay beyond it; his gaze was dark and hollow, his face devoid of emotion. She was shaken by the dead expression and she understood straight away that this man wasn't really alive – he was just a shell, empty of meaning and substance. As soon as he saw them, his eyes dimmed further still and this time, Ema winced openly.

The warden instructed them on letting him know when they were done with their visit before walking off but both Ema and Deston were too fixed on Simon to listen properly. Judging by the way he was surveying them intently, he was intrigued by them too. Unease stung her when she saw his gaze linger on her a little longer than usual.

"Deston Cavatin," he introduced as he pointed to himself. "I'm an agent for the DEA. This is Detective Skye."

She nodded curtly by way of greeting. Simon only cocked his head in acknowledgement but still didn't speak. Ema threw a brief look at Deston to see if he would break the silence but he'd crossed his arms and seemed to be examining Simon who was reciprocating likewise. Ema frowned; what was that look in his eyes? Deston's face was recognisable as one of the Gavinners, sure, and he dressed like a crazy person but there was something more to mere recognition in Simon's stare.

"What can I do you for?" Simon asked in a bored tone.

"We took a look at your case files," Deston started, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Obviously," Simon drawled with a half-smirk. "I wouldn't expect a visit from anyone who hadn't."

Ema's eyes narrowed in annoyance. Had some sort of law passed in this country while she'd been away that required all the men to act like asses? When she looked to Deston, she was sure she was right – he was smirking too.

"Alright then, Mr Lowes, I'll make this short," Deston said sauntering up to the vacant chair and falling into it. Ema watched with something akin to admiration (though she'd never admit to it) as Deston leaned back casually, his eyes never wavering from Simon's. She'd never seen Deston interact with a criminal and now that she had, she'd fully understood why Deston was as successful in his career as he was. Ema could never deal with a criminal without getting uncomfortable but he made it look effortless.

"I've been chasing a lead on a crime ring for a while now." He scrutinised Simon's expression.

"And?" Simon said.

Ema's heart sank a little when she heard how coolly he said it. Deston was calm but so was Simon; he wasn't easily rattled and he wouldn't tell them anything he didn't want to. Judging by the guarded expression on Deston's face, she knew that he'd come to the same realisation.

"This ring is connected to Rafael Rainsford in some way," Deston said slowly as if measuring Simon's reaction. Ema thought she saw his jaw clench for a moment. "I was hoping you could help me."

Simon's fingers entwined and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His dark eyes ran circles on Deston's face in interest and there was a short pause in which both men stared at one another. Ema saw that while both their expression were blank, there was something strange about their staring contest. Again, before she could make anything of it, Simon spoke and she had to focus on the conversation.

"Deston Cavatin of the Gavinners," Simon said softly. "How strange."

Deston stiffened. "What's strange?"

Simon smiled. "To have you _here_," he said gesturing around at his cell. "Now."

"The Gavinners are renown for their music _and _their ties to law enforcement," Deston said and Ema was surprised to hear the dark tone of his voice. "It's not that big a deal I'm here. I've probably seen more of this prison than you, Mr Lowes."

Simon laughed. "No offense meant, Agent Cavatin." He leaned back, giving the air of one who was done with his inspection. "Ask me whatever you want! Anything to bring the great and powerful Rainsford down."

"How influential is he?"

Simon made a derisive sound. "That's like questioning the lion's power in the jungle."

"We can do without the similes," Ema snapped impatiently.

Simon's dark eyes turned on her and she found herself wishing she hadn't said a word. There was a tight smile on his lips and he cocked his head, surveying her curiously.

"Ah, so it speaks," Simon said and Ema glared at him. "The _similes_ are to help you understand what you're up against." He turned back to Deston. "Rafael's the most powerful bastard in the criminal world."

"Funny how he's stuck in a prison cell," Ema said waspishly.

Simon snorted. "If, by some miracle, he _is _executed, it doesn't mean that all of the people that worked for him will give up and head off to make an honest living."

"Why do you sound so sceptical about the execution?" Deston asked. "Do you know something you're not telling us?"

"If by that you mean do I know if somebody's going to help him escape it, then no. I don't." Simon ran a hand through his hair. "You should know it's no easy task capturing and executing men like Rafael and with his power. Ah." He raised an eyebrow as if something had just occurred to him. "You haven't met him, have you?"

Deston returned the look. "And how do you know that?"

Simon shrugged non-committally. "If you'd met him you wouldn't ask me these questions."

The Gavinner cocked his head back, regarding him for a moment. "Mr Lowes," Deston said carefully. "You're a member of the ring, aren't you?"

Simon laughed. "I was – when it wasn't under Rafael's rule."

"Romano?" Deston guessed and Simon grinned.

"I'm not surprised you know your stuff, Deston," Simon said.

Ema's forehead crinkled into a frown as she watched the exchange between the two men. There was something resembling confusion in Deston's expression, amusement – and interest – in Simon's who was acting as though he knew the younger man. As far as Ema could see however, Deston showed no signs of recognising him.

"Yeah, it was under Romano's rule," Simon said with a nod. "Without our knowledge, Romano was reporting to Rafael for years before he got killed."

"By Rafael," Deston stated and Simon nodded.

"Rafael did the same with all of the rival organisations – he coerced the leaders for years and then got rid of them before merging the rings together. Most of them couldn't resist because they weren't aware of what was going on until it was too late. That's what made him successful. He did everything in secret. His company – you know about his company don't you? – was his greatest weapon. The information gave him power over a lot of these guys. Naturally they had to give in to him. If anyone tried to fight him, they were killed. Instantly." He made a disgusted sound. "The short of it is, Rafael has a small army at his beck and call."

"If that's the case, why is he still in prison?" Ema said angrily.

"Don't flatter yourself, babe," Simon said in disdain. "I know he's guarded by intense security and all that now but that was only possible because he was here long enough for it to happen."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Rafael may have been in prison for 3 years but it's not because of your supposedly unbreakable prisons. It's because he had an agenda." Simon stood up and Deston rose with him but the older man just moved to the window and stared out. "He just got unlucky. Someone got interested in this case and decided to come down on him like a ton of bricks."

"Who is it?" Deston asked suddenly. "Who's investigating your case and why?"

Simon glanced at him over his shoulder and shook his head. "That was your first irrelevant question, Deston. And here I was getting impressed."

Ema growled but Deston was unfazed. "Alright, that's not important. I have another question for you. You say that Rafael is the head of the crime ring I'm investigating but I know for a fact that the leader of the organisation is a woman."

Simon turned to Deston and shook his head. "You think Rafael would report to anyone?" he scoffed. "It's painfully obvious you've never even set eyes on the man. I know who you're talking about. _She _is his right-hand woman. _She_ is his daughter."

"I checked Rainsford's records," Deston said coldly. "He has no children."

"None that were registered," Simon agreed. "Rafael's spent decades of his life achieving this much power and you think he would hand it over to someone of no importance? You think he'd leave it all to whoever can grab it once he's dead? His blood is _royal_," he sneered. "He was only going to pass it on to his children."

"Then how?" Ema asked. "How was he able to manipulate—?"

"He used women to birth children." Simon's voice was dripping with revulsion. "They'd be too afraid to tell anyone who the father was and he ignored them until the kids were old enough to be of use. Then he trained them and turned them into replicas of himself."

Suddenly, the 'father' riddle made a lot more sense. How could they have overlooked something so simple? Just because he didn't have any progeny registered under his name didn't mean he was fatherless. Bile rose in Ema's throat and she wondered what kind of a hideous monster would play with so many lives like this. It was inhumane and despicable.

Meanwhile, Deston was standing next to Ema again, his arms folded across his chest again. He was listening to Simon with an emotionless expression.

"Why does Rafael want to kill Phoenix Wright?" Deston asked abruptly.

Simon frowned and it was a while before he answered. "Come again?"

"Leo Giovani?"

"Rafael's son," Simon provided, nodding slowly. "His eldest son."

"Is Giovani the eldest child?" Deston asked. Ema frowned at him. What bearing did that have on the case? Then she shook off the thought, unable to deny that Deston was a far better investigator than she could ever be and what she might deem unimportant could be the complete opposite.

"Yeah," Simon answered.

"Why isn't he Rainsford's right-hand man?"

There was silence for endless minutes in which the staring contest between the two men was on again and Ema thought she would die from the testosterone overload. _Men_!

"Rafael tested all of his kids," Simon said after a while, keeping his gaze fixed on Deston. "They were pretty nasty tests too. I hear his daughter exceeded all of his expectations. I suppose being the only girl drove her to succeed."

"What kind of tests?" Deston asked.

There was another stretch of ominous silence before Simon answered. "The details are unnecessary. Suffice it to say, he tested their pain threshold, their loyalty and their physical and mental strength. It's not easy for a guy so Rafael was doubly impressed when she passed. I hear she was a particularly efficient assassin."

Out of the corner of Ema's eye, Deston moved strangely and when she looked at him, she saw his knuckles turning white. His face was tight with anger and there was a storm brewing in his eyes. Ema didn't blame him – she felt angry too. What kind of an animal would put his own daughter through such trials? Did he not have a shred of love for his children? Did Rafael Rainsford see them as nothing more than an insurance that it would be his blood that would remain in power?

"What's her name?" he asked.

"He gave them all fake names. Leo Giovani is a fake. As was hers – Irina Ethans. I'm sure they'll have the perfect background when you check them."

Deston was quiet for a moment, surveying Simon as if trying to figure out whether or not he was lying.

"In a phone call, Giovani mentioned Rafael wanting Phoenix Wright dead," Deston said shortly. "What do you have to say to that?"

"I'd say Mr Phoenix Wright is in major trouble," Simon said gravely.

"Why?" Simon shook his head but didn't say anything else and then Deston jerked a thumb at Ema. "She was attacked too – twice."

"That's to be expected," Simon said. "She _is_ investigating his – "

But Deston was shaking his head. "Ema joined in the investigation _after _her attacks. At first I figured it was to warn me off because she and I were in a relationship." Ema flinched at the lie but Deston's voice was smooth as ever. "Now I'm not so sure."

Ema and Simon were both staring at Deston now.

"Explain," Simon voiced Ema's thoughts.

"She," Deston said pointing at Ema, "is a very old friend of Phoenix Wright."

Simon's shadowy eyes turned on Ema but she barely noticed – her own were fixed on her friend who was scrutinising the prisoner's expression. She'd never made the connection but now that Deston mentioned it, it was so obvious. She suppressed a shiver and looked down at the ground, hoping to veil the fear she was afraid would show there.

"If there's a threat to the organisation in any way, someone lower down sorts it out. Rafael and his family never get involved."

"He is now," Deston said. "What does it mean?"

"It means Wright did something to piss him off."

Again Deston shook his head. "I asked Mr Wright and he's never heard of Rafael."

Simon's eyebrows shot up and he fell into his seat slowly. His fingers curled in on themselves. "So what you're essentially saying is Rafael's attacking people he's never met nor has any direct problem with?"

"That's the assumption."

Simon looked at Deston. "Assumptions are a dangerous thing to rely on when you're working against Rafael. But let's say you're right. I can tell you this. If he's trying to kill people he doesn't know, he's doing it because there's something in it for him. If he's trying to kill you and your friends, it'll be more than just about hiding the crime ring and its identity because, like I said, someone lower down deals with that. If he or his immediate family is directly involved, then you're really in trouble." Simon's eyes hardened. "It means he's after something and when Rafael wants something, he never stops until he gets it."

"What could he get from killing me?" Ema burst out and Deston looked at her in surprised, as if he'd just remembered she was there. A concerned look swept over his face rapidly and he was across the room in two bounds, his arm on her shoulder but she shrugged him off. Simon was staring at her with contemplative eyes.

"Ema, you don't need to worry! I could—"

"Be quiet, Deston!" Ema snapped. "I'm not a child! You don't need to protect me. I would appreciate it if you'd tell me everything so we could be on the same page! You're just like Klavier, you know that? Both of you hide stuff and reveal it when it suits you!" She rounded on Simon again. "You worked for Rafael so you must know what's going on!"

Simon's face turned to stone. "If I knew anything, I would have told you."

"Why would you do that?" Ema snorted. "You're loyal to—"

"Detective Skye," Simon barked suddenly and she silenced instantly. He was on his feet, the thunder in his voice giving away his tightly-controlled rage. "I'd be careful what you say."

Deston had yanked her behind him the moment Simon had spoken as he'd also recognised the dangerous tone of Simon's voice. "Stay right where you are," Deston snarled.

Simon laughed scathingly. "I'm not going to hurt her."

She tried to throw Deston's restraining hands off. She hated the way she was being held behind him, like she was a baby that needed to be coddled. "Just who the—"

"Ema!" Deston glared at her warningly over his shoulder.

"You're Klavier's friend, aren't you, Detective Skye?"

It took Ema a moment to realise that it wasn't Deston who'd spoken. Both of them looked to Simon whose arms were crossed and he was looking straight at her, his furious expression diminished.

"What—?" Ema started in confusion but Deston stiffened.

"_Klavier's _been investigating this case?" Deston asked sharply.

Ema's eyes widened. What the hell did Klavier have to do with any of this? Her analytic mind started to piece together what Deston had told her about this case and the conversation she'd had with Klavier on the beach that Saturday.

Her argument with him was forgotten as a thrill of fear went through her when she realised that Klavier was in danger too.

"Huh. I wondered when I first saw you," Simon said and there was ill-concealed amusement in his eyes.

"Elaborate," Deston commanded.

"He's the one who put the sanctions in place," Simon said simply, lying down in his bed. It was obvious he thought the conversation was over. "I haven't seen him in a few days but he's a friend of yours, Deston. I'm sure he'll be interested to know you're after Rafael too."

* * *

"What the hell is K doing, caught up in this mess?" Deston seethed.

Ema glanced at him. She might have been more surprised at the anger that radiated off him in waves but she understood that it came from his concern for his friend. Despite the way Klavier had behaved this morning, Ema felt the same.

The ride back had been stiff and silent with both of them wondering on different matters. Now, however, Deston had exploded in a rare display of negative emotion while Ema remained calm, trying to think through the facts that she knew.

"What was the victim's name?" Ema asked suddenly.

Deston stopped and held open a door for her. She vaguely registered that he was still being as gentlemanly as ever despite his anger.

"Gale Sanders," he said, following after her. "Why?"

Ema sighed. "I know why Klavier's involved in all of this."

Deston frowned at her and she recounted everything that Klavier had told her. As they came to another set of double doors, Deston pulled it open for her, his face set in silent contemplation.

"We should have a word with him," Deston said after a while.

"You should," Ema said carefully as she made her way around the array of cubicles and dodged around the workers who were running this way and that. She didn't notice the looks. "I've got some paperwork I need to do. Plus, I think it would be best if you have a private talk with him about this." There was no point mentioning that Klavier wouldn't respond well if she was there with Deston.

Her companion hesitated then nodded in agreement. "Okay," Deston said as they reached his office and he opened the door. "First, though, we should… Ema ?"

Ema, however, wasn't listening. She was slowly walking away from his office, as if in a daze. Her eyes were fixed on an empty desk nearby where a newspaper lay open. She heard Deston groan behind her before cursing loudly.

Her heart dropped into the ground and her hands were shaking as she reached out toward it. Klavier's behaviour made a whole lot of sense now. She could have moaned as she remembered what she'd said to him in anger: _What I do and who I do it with is my choice._

Among echoes of his accusations and her own foolish retorts, there was one thought that was louder than the rest: _Good God! Will these troubles never end?_


	18. Death Is Nothing At All

The poetry, OCs and original plot (which is coming to a close) all belong to me.

Just for a reference (aka, you goldfish-es - and yes I know that's incorrect) you guys might want to read the Simon/Gale flashback in Chap 16

* * *

Death Is Nothing At All

'.'

Crystal shimmer, fading flame,

Pools glimmer with burning shame.

White as snow, black as ash;

Denial and grief at last do crash.

Crimson ice, no beat within –

Time to pay the price of sin.

.'.

"_Don't you know baby, that I can't breathe without you?"_

The soft voice resounded through the room, each note echoing off itself until it was lost in between the piles of files scattered over speakers and tables, wedged in between books and reports. It slid along the panes of the cabinets housing the multitude of instruments and escaping out under the closed door until it was swallowed up by the silence.

Klavier lay in his chair, his booted feet resting on the edge of a large speaker and his tanned fingers gliding along the strings of his guitar. His eyes were closed and his lips were unmoving, resting in wait for the next command to come but the source was far too dark and clouded at the moment.

Of late, Klavier had taken to listening the murmurs of his heart rather than his head and his lyrics were slowly changing into an emotional overtone that had never been made public. But ever since his altercation with Ema yesterday, he'd found that he needed to sing more than ever before and yet the words wouldn't come. If they did, they were things his brain told him were right but settled uneasy on his tongue. They were shallow and emotionless and they made him feel disgusted with himself so out they went of the proverbial window.

"_Don't you know baby, that I always knew?"_

And when they came, they took even him by surprise. His voice sounded alien to him at times. As if he'd lost control over everything else that he had, now his greatest asset was deviating. Wasn't it enough that no matter how he tried to tell them enough was enough, his eyes thirsted for her even when they stared at her? Wasn't it enough that even as he kissed her, his lips – his body – wanted more? Was Life not content with burning him alive with desire, that It had to pierce his heart with the icy dagger of rage? Could it not grant him respite from the coldness of seeing Ema with another man?

Apparently not. Now, even his voice was dripping with the myriad of emotions he couldn't control.

"_Did you think I didn't know what was coming?"_

With every word that fell from his lips, wrapped in the cocoon of his strummed music, a frown deepened in between closed eyes. It was irritating him to sing what he was singing but he found himself unable to stop. What was wrong with him? Why was he letting some inexplicable, unreasonable power control his good sense. His guitar should be laid aside, his back should be straight and his eyes fixed on the report he had asked for.

"_To silence the song my heart was humming?"_

And there it was again. That damned, pathetic frame of mind he was sinking into. He was Klavier Gavin – the man who'd survived the murder of his mother, the death of his father and his brother's betrayal. He had watched his best friend dragged to prison. He'd survived betrayal from an early age and he'd still succeeded in life. He hadn't allowed anything to hold him back as he'd pushed through law school at an age most boys worried about football and girls and sex. And he'd done it while keeping his mother's legacy – music – alive. He was Adelita Gavin's son and he'd survived more than any had to deal with in a life time.

So how was it that he felt as though Ema had smashed his legs out from under him? Who _was_ Ema Skye? She was a detective that worked _for _him and _he _was the one finding himself hindered by her? Why was he allowing himself to think about her when everything he'd thought of her and all that she'd demonstrated was nothing more than a lie?

_Or maybe I just read far too much into it…_

Had he seen too much into her actions? Had he seen love where there had only been a vague inclination? Had he mistaken humane concern for something deeper? _It's not really that much of a stretch, _he thought as he glanced at the newspaper on the table before him.

"She is a Gavinner's minx," Klavier muttered bitterly, his dark gaze on the damning picture. Hadn't she helped to convict Daryan? And then dated Deston? And now she'd played Klavier for a fool. He wondered how long it would be before Raoul and Seren fell for her charms.

_Give her the benefit of the doubt._

"Nein," Klavier snapped at the voice, sitting up. He waited for it to argue back but there was silence and he sighed, half relieved and half frustrated. He looked down at the black and white guitar in his hand. He needed to stop wasting time on this when he had more important matters to attend to. He had to prioritise like he'd always done. He _had _to control himself – it wasn't impossible.

He placed the guitar against a filing cabinet and shifted his chair so that it was upright and he turned to the file on the desk before him. He took a deep breath and folded up the newspaper, throwing it into the trash can beside him as well as the one inside his head.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. _"Es ist allerhöchste Eisenbahn."_

* * *

With a deep breath, he pushed himself away from his hog, taking a moment to focus on the task before him. He looked at the building in front of him: somewhere beyond those double glass doors was the man that lay at the very centre of the whole mess Klavier was trying to clean up. On one of those floors, Klavier speculated, rested one of the people that Gale Sanders had given her life for.

After his conversation with Gale, Klavier had decided to hold back on his opinion of David Rainsford on the grounds that he knew he was lacking vital information – namely the reason why David had left. Her insistence that it had not been his fault had made Klavier speculate on his assumptions so his dislike had been downgraded to stiff reserve. However, having received a file earlier in the day had brought the anger back when Klavier discovered that David had the very thing Gale had never had the chance to enjoy: a family.

He'd gone to David's home address only to be greeted by a woman whose looks could have easily won her a place among some of the best modelling agencies in California. Having spent many years of objectivity in the courtroom, Klavier found it almost impossible to warm to David's wife. Her status as such would have been enough to cause Klavier to dislike her as his loyalty to Gale was too deep but her behaviour had only added to it. From the few minutes he'd spent enquiring after her husband and obtaining his work address after learning he wasn't home, Klavier could tell that Katrina Rainsford's beauty was only skin-deep. She was neglectful of the child crawling around her home, obviously believing that the occasional 'darling' and 'sweetheart' she threw at her son was enough, and she'd reacted like a schoolgirl when she saw Klavier Gavin was on her doorstep. He'd been severely unimpressed by her flirtatious behaviour. Katrina may have been stunning but she suffered from a rare affliction of excruciating stupidity. Klavier couldn't help but feel a twinge of hatred for the younger Rainsford. How could he have walked away from Gale and married a bimbo?

So, here he stood now – a face of tautened features and a mind filled with questions.

He ignored the looks and the whispers as he made his way through the building even going as far as to ignore fans who tried to get his attention (for an autograph, no doubt). He stopped only to enquire after David's location once or twice after which he continued on in silence, his eyes fixed ahead until he saw only the heavy door decorated with a plaque: _David Rainsford, Chief Executive Officer._

He composed his disgusted features into a blank expression and knocked. He knew David would be expecting him as he'd had to get past his secretary who'd informed David of Klavier's appearance. The knock was soon answered as the door swung open.

David was the spitting image of Rafael. Klavier had seen the likeness in photos but still the resemblance threw him for a moment. Perhaps it was because Klavier was meeting the man face to face for the first time or that David was older than in the pictures he'd seen.

After another second, Klavier decided age had nothing to do with it: David was older now, yes, and his handsome face was subtly lined with age but there was none of the cruelty Klavier had sensed in Rafael. David's aura was dark too but there was nothing vicious in his gaze, no hidden menace in his smile. No, Klavier reasoned, it was probably just that he was finally meeting Gale's ex.

He was dressed in a suit that had, no doubt, carried a ridiculous price-tag once and he wore it well. His gray eyes were piercing and glittered with intelligence as they ran over Klavier. His expression was arranged into a welcoming one of professionalism and civility. Klavier could tell David wasn't one to be impressed by him.

"Mr Gavin," he said, extending a hand which Klavier shook. "Come in," he said gesturing towards his desk while closing the door.

Klavier hooked his thumbs into the loops of his belt as he surveyed the office nonchalantly, taking in the vast room, the simple but stylish furnishing and the heaps of boxes and cabinets to the side. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the files littered across the desk and couldn't help but be surprised that David appeared to have been working though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"It's customary to make an appointment," David said, returning to his seat and taking his jacket off which he threw over the back of his chair and looked at Klavier. "Luckily, I just got in so I'm free. Tell me how I can help you."

Again, Klavier's eyebrow shot up. David was every bit as commanding and brisk as he'd heard but he wasn't here to be ordered about.

"I have been wanting to talk to you for a while now, Mr Rainsford," Klavier said, slinking forward and sitting down opposite David.

"Am I right in presuming you're here to discuss business?" David said, leaning back in his chair.

Klavier paused. "_Nein_. I subscribe to KB Security."

He didn't really but he knew that, being in the same business, David might be annoyed by this. He wanted to irritate him a little and wasn't disappointed: a flicker of annoyance flashed across the David's features.

"I don't understand why you'd come to me otherwise," he said bluntly, fixing the prosecutor with his hard eyes.

"I am afraid I have a very good reason to come to you," Klavier said with a congenial smile. "In fact, I visited your home before your wife directed me here."

David's eyebrows contracted for a infinitesimal moment. "Business is usually best left for the office, Mr Gavin."

_He didn't like that I met his wife, _Klavier guessed. _Too bad. _"I have a business of a different kind to discuss with you," he said. "It would be too optimistic to hope that your parents told you I visited them also."

David frowned. "No. They didn't."

"I am not surprised," Klavier said with a nod. "In fact, I was told to leave you alone. I am afraid that was an impossible request."

"What could be so important that you had to see my parents?" David asked, his tone brusque. "Does this have something to do with Rafael?"

"What do you know of Rafael's… current situation?" Klavier asked.

"That he's in prison for murder," David answered. Suddenly, he smiled sardonically. "Did he disappear on you?"

Klavier's eyes narrowed at the thinly veiled insult. "Far from it," he said frostily. "His execution is in 11 days."

David's expression didn't change although the smile slipped. "Well, well," he said languidly. "At last, a prison that's managed to hold Rafe."

"Indeed," Klavier said. "Do you know whose murder he was convicted of?"

David shrugged. "I never bothered to check out the details."

Klavier raised an eyebrow in polite disbelief. "Your brother was convicted of murder and you did not care to learn who he murdered and why?"

_I flew halfway across the world when I found out about Kristoph's incarceration…_

"Mr Gavin," David said with a humourless laugh, "if I tried to keep up with all the people Rafael murdered, I would have time for little else."

Klavier struggled with himself for a moment. He wanted to ask about the murders and what David had done to prevent them but he had more important matters to discuss. And really, it was no surprise for him to learn Gale hadn't been the first victim.

"So if Rafael is still in prison, why are you hunting me down?" David said bluntly.

Klavier scrutinised David's expression, looking for a hint as to where he should start. David's gaze was steady, his posture confident and his mouth set in a firm line. It was apparent, for a moment, why Gale might have been drawn to him; he had a dark charisma, an iron confidence and a straightforward manner that was rarely seen. He may not have been like Rafael but David was dark in his own way and obviously not easily shaken.

And it was with this observation that Klavier made up his mind.

"Herr Rainsford," Klavier said, leaning forward in his chair. "You and your brother have a very dysfunctional relationship, am I right?"

"Define dysfunctional."

"He wants you dead," Klavier stated in a frank tone and David's eyes narrowed. "And you spent several years hiding."

"I don't hide," David cut in sharply. "I was staying out of his way. What's the relevance to this case?"

"You will understand," Klavier said. "I would appreciate your co-operation."

"Tell me something, Prosecutor Gavin," David said and the unexpectedly friendly tone of his voice made Klavier suspicious. "Rafael's obviously been sentenced already. What are _you _investigating?"

"What I am investigating is very important not only to myself but to you too, Mr Rainsford," Klavier said solemnly. "It is unfortunate but your parents have kept many facts hidden from you."

"And you're here to give them to me out of the generosity of your heart?" David said mockingly.

"You were good friends with Simon Lowes and Kade Richards, is that right?" Klavier said abruptly.

David shrugged, relaxing in his chair. "Yeah. I haven't seen or spoken to them in a long time."

"Twelve years to be exact, if my calculations are correct."

David's eyebrows rose slowly. "Someone's done their math."

"Indeed," Klavier said with a smile. "According to Simon, you were a very good friend of his. Why are you no longer in touch with him?"

"You hunted him down too?" David asked with a little laugh.

Klavier ran his fingers through his bangs, a little ironic smile playing on his mouth. "If that is what you want to call it. My question?"

David shrugged again, throwing his hands up. "You grow out of some friendships, Mr Gavin."

Klavier's eyes narrowed and he sat up straighter in his chair. His hands moved together, his fingers intertwined as he fixed David with his gaze, looking for a reaction. "Did you grow out of your relationship with Gale too?"

David's demeanour transformed suddenly. He froze, the scornful look melting into a mixture of shock, disbelief and pain. Klavier waited for the array of questions he expected to be bombarded with but David was silent. His confidence slipped like a badly fixed mask but before Klavier could do more than glimpse what was beneath, it was all gone. The blank expression was back up but Klavier could see that David's hard exterior was finally shaken.

"Let me guess," David said. "She's related to this case too."

"Ja," Klavier said, ignoring the scepticism. "She is central to this case."

The doubt disappeared and Klavier was pleased to see the concern that replaced it. "Is she okay?"

"You care about Gale?" Klavier asked, scrutinising David's expression.

"Of course," David replied, so quickly that Klavier was sure he hadn't thought before he answered. He stood up suddenly and turned away to look out of the window. Klavier understood that his judgement of David had been harsher than he probably deserved. There was no doubt in his mind that David was still very much in love with Gale.

"Mr Rainsford," Klavier said and his voice was gentler now. Everything rested on this conversation – all that he'd worked towards ended here. "My investigation started with the murder Rafael committed. I have met Simon and I have spoken with Gale. I even visited your brother in prison and I have gone as far as to speak to your parents and Gale's brother. It was a simple search for the truth."

David turned to face Klavier again. He was confused but the prosecutor knew that he finally had his attention. "What is it now?" David asked.

"I know about your involvement with Romano," Klavier said and David's eyes narrowed with distrust. "I know what Rafael did to him and your departure from the crime world. Do not worry," Klavier added when he saw David open his mouth as if to protest, "I am not here to cause trouble for you." The young Rainsford didn't respond so Klavier continued. "I just have some questions and I hope that you will help me… for Gale's sake. And then, I will tell you everything that has been kept from you."

David was quiet for a moment as he stared at Klavier whose heart had started to pound. It had been a long time since his heart had beat so fast: the regular exposure to audiences in the courtroom and concerts had almost rendered him immune to nervousness. Right now, though, he knew that everything hinged on David's co-operation. He was the only other person apart from Gale who knew what had happened between the two and Klavier had to know the answers. He knew that David held the advantage here – if he insisted on knowing everything before telling Klavier anything, he would have to oblige. He just hoped it wouldn't come to that; Klavier had a nasty feeling learning of Gale's death would leave little room for discussion.

"What do you want to know?" David asked quietly and Klavier paused for a moment of relief before he answered.

"Do you still love Gale?" It was the first question that fell from his lips and it surprised even him. It wasn't significant to finding out the truth behind the case but Klavier was too personally involved to care. He had to know for himself.

David slipped his hands in his pocket and regarded Klavier. "You said you met Gale," he said and Klavier hesitated.

"I spoke to her once or twice, yes," he said ambiguously.

"Are you gay?"

Klavier almost choked. "W-what?"

David laughed. "If you're as straight as I am you would know it's impossible not to love her."

Klavier was torn between indignation and amusement. "So you still love her?"

"From the day I met her to the day I die."

It was obvious that David was a gifted intellectual so Klavier was a little surprised that he was answering questions that must have seemed inappropriate, but he kept pushing his luck. "Then why did you leave her?"

David's eyebrows rose again. "Is that what she told you?"

Klavier shook his head. "_Nein_. It is common knowledge among those who knew her that you were there one day and the next, you were gone. Gale would not talk about it, saying only that it was not your fault and you did not leave her."

"She didn't tell anyone why we separated?" David asked with a frown and Klavier confirmed it with a nod. "Why would she do that?" he said so quietly that he could have been talking to himself.

"She would tell no one," Klavier said. "She refused to answer any questions I had regarding you so I was forced to find you. I was hoping you would shed some light on this matter if she will not."

"I have no idea why she would keep it secret," David said with a puzzled frown.

"It is true then?" Klavier prodded. "You did not leave her?"

David looked at him in astonishment and laughed. "I don't think any man would have the strength to leave her, Mr Gavin. She would have to push them away." Klavier thought of Simon suddenly and grimaced. "You've got to understand that Gale helped me overcome a dark part of my life. She made me a different person. I didn't just love her because she was beautiful and intelligent and funny. I loved her because she was fierce and strong. Her kind heart was full of trust and strength. She was my rock."

David was almost whispering now and at last, Klavier understood why he was being so accommodating – he could tell the older man had had kept all of this inside him for so long and it was all coming out in a rush now.

"Gale had morals and principles that I'd rarely seen in anyone else. She had the ability to make me a better person. She touched my heart and soul."

Klavier was struck by the intensity of David's words and the fire that had begun to burn in his eyes. He was perplexed as he stared at David, trying to understand why a man who still loved a woman after all these years could have walked away from her in the first place.

"I treated her badly," David said turning away. "I suspected and accused her of a lot of things that she hadn't done and would never do. In hindsight, I see that she deserved much better than me." He paused, turning back to Klavier with an almost demanding expression. "Is she with someone?"

Klavier wavered. "She and Simon became a couple a few years after your departure."

Several expressions played across David's face: sadness, dislike and envy giving way to resignation and acceptance. "I can't say I'm surprised. Does he treat her well?"

"We can discuss this afterwards," Klavier said, cringing inwardly at the irony of his comment. "Please, Mr Rainsford. What happened between yourself and Gale?"

David was quiet for a moment before he exhaled deeply and nodded. "You met my wife, Katrina?" Klavier nodded, keeping the disgust he felt out of his expression. "I was dating her a long time ago, before I knew Gale." Klavier frowned. "It wasn't anything serious and we broke up a few weeks after I met Gale."

"Why are you married to her now?" Klavier said without thinking.

David lowered himself into his chair and rubbed his eyes, sighing in frustration. "Me and Gale were together for a year when we decided to buy a flat and I lost touch with Katrina. I didn't know she was looking for me but she found me eventually, several years later."

And unexpectedly, it hit Klavier all too quickly. He reeled in his chair, shocked: Gale's diary entry, his visit to David's house and Gale's words were all swimming through his mind. David's voice sounded far away now, as if echoing the truth he'd just recognized.

"She told me I had a 5 year old son," David said tiredly. "She tried to get back with me through pleas that she wanted her son to know his father. I told her I would support her but to get any notions of getting me back, out of her head. A DNA test proved he was mine. I provided for them both and I saw him a few times but Gale knew nothing about it. I didn't know how to tell her… She would have been devastated."

"But she found out," Klavier guessed.

David nodded grimly. "I don't know what was worse – how understanding she was or how upset." He shook his head. "We'd been trying for a baby but…"

Klavier looked down at his hands, frowning. His insides were turning hot and cold at the thought of Lana. He understood Gale's extreme desire to protect her daughter even more now. How would David react when he found out about her and whose daughter she was?

"We – _she_ – tried to make it work," David said. "But every time I left to see Landon, I could see how badly it affected her. I told her I would stop going, all she had to say was the word, but she wouldn't hear a word of it. I couldn't stand to see the look in her eyes so I told someone to ring Simon who was in Europe and tell him to come home."

Klavier frowned. "_Ein _moment," he interrupted. "Simon was out of the country when all this happened?" David nodded. "Why?"

"We'd had a major fight because I knew he was in love with her and Gale got involved and it got out of hand," David explained. "I think he left to give me and Gale some space."

"And you had someone call him back?" Another nod. "Why?"

"Because he made her feel better and I couldn't," David replied dejectedly. "I was visiting Landon when Simon got back. When I went home, I saw him…" he paused and Klavier frowned at the disgust on David's face. "I saw him hugging her and I overreacted. It was stupid of me. After all, I'd called him back to be there for her, what did I expect? But I was paranoid and suspicious and we fought."

"Did he know you were the one who had asked for him to come back?"

"No. I didn't think it was a good idea for him to know," David said with a dry laugh. "Our friendship had deteriorated dramatically."

"How did your relationship with Gale end?"

* * *

_Gale's face was serious as David closed the door behind them. He took both their coats and threw them on a couch nearby before walking up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. He rested his face in the space between her shoulder and neck and kissed her jaw. _

"_Are you okay, sweetheart?"_

"_Yeah," she replied lightly but David saw the strain of the smile she threw him. _

"_What's wrong?" he whispered._

"_Nothing," she said reassuringly and turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. "You know how these nights out tire me."_

"_Mmm," David hummed, dropping a kiss on her lips. "I promise, next time it'll just be the two of us."_

_Gale laughed and he smiled, his heart warming at the sound. She stared into his face for endless minutes and he could feel his heartbeat start to race the crazy way it always did when she looked at him with those eyes. Her fingers rose to trace the outline of his jaw and he closed his eyes, revelling in the feel of her touch. _

"_I love you," she whispered. _

_His eyes flew open at the disquieting tone of her voice. David cupped her face in his hands, examining her crumbling expression, and he kissed her forehead. "Gale, what's wrong? Tell me. You've been quiet all night."_

_Gale shook her head and laughed but her eyes were shining with liquid sadness. "I'm just so lucky to have spent so many years with you. Thank you…"_

"_Why would you say that?" David asked, his alarm growing by the second. _

"_Just saying…" Gale sighed, pressing her hands against his chest. "Come on, it's late. We both have an early start."_

.'.

_He didn't know what woke him. He was sweating, the sheets wrapped around him tightly as if he'd thrashed in his sleep and he looked over his shoulder to see if Gale was okay but the bed was empty. He sat up instantly, his body tense with worry. He hated waking up and finding her gone. As always, he thought of Rafael and the paranoia that he had something to do with her absence washed over him. _

"_Gale!" he called, already halfway out of the bedroom, his eyes darting around. His footsteps sped up as he turned on the lights in the living room, saw the bathroom door open and empty. He raced into the kitchen, flicking the switch and his fists curled. He spun on the spot. "Gale!" he shouted, making his way back to the living room. "GALE!"_

"_Hey." Her voice was like heavenly comfort and he spun towards it; she was coming in through the double glass doors from the balcony. Dressed in the white silk gown he'd bought her, framed by the moonlight streaming in, she was like an ethereal creature, more beautiful than anything he'd dreamt. He mumbled something incoherent as he rushed towards her, engulfing her in a tight hug. _

"_What's wrong?" she asked softly._

"_I was worried about you!" he murmured pulling back to look into her eyes. "Why aren't you asleep? What were you doing out there?"_

"_I couldn't sleep," she admitted, patting his arm. "I thought fresh air might help."_

"_Tell me what's wrong, baby," David whispered. "I can't take seeing you so upset. Tell me what I can do to make it right." He held her face, tilting it upwards but she refused to meet his gaze. "Is it because of Landon?"_

_Gale bit her lip and shook her head. His hands tightened their grip on her when she made to move away. "Go back to sleep, David."_

"_No," David said, pulling her closer. "Not until you tell me why you're so upset."_

"_I'm not upset," Gale argued. "I'm just wo—"_

"_Bullshit," David interrupted quietly, shaking his head. "You can't lie to me."_

_She tried to push him away again but his grip only tightened. "David, we'll talk later. I'm just—"_

"_Now," he commanded. "We're going to sort this out now."_

" _I don't—"_

"_Tell me what the problem is, Gale!" David said, raising his voice._

"_Fine!" she screamed back suddenly, throwing him off with a sudden burst of strength. David frowned, taken aback by her uncharacteristic rage. "You want to know what I've been thinking?"_

_David took a step toward her. "Yeah, I do."_

"_I think that I can't do this anymore!" she cried, gesturing wildly and walking backwards. "I don't think I can take one more hour of sitting at home waiting for you to come back. I don't think I can take knowing you're seeing a woman who can give you what I can't."_

_David stopped, his body freezing over. "Don't be stupid, Gale. I'm not seeing her and you've given me more than Katrina could ever give me."_

"_No I haven't! I can't! And you should be with a woman who can give you a family." She turned her back on him and David's heart lurched. "You should be with the mother of your son."_

_David took the last few steps between them and yanked on her arm, pulling her to him again. He looked into her distressed eyes fiercely. "I am not leaving you."_

"_How long do you think this will last?" Gale asked, her voice barely a whisper. "How long do you think we can carry on pretending everything is okay?"_

"_Who's pretending?" David thundered. "I love you! What part of that don't you understand? Everything I am and everything I do is for you!"_

"_David," Gale breathed. "Please."_

"_Please what?" David bellowed. "What do you want from me? Tell me what you want me to do! Tell me what I can do to make this better! Tell me what I can do to stop you talking this nonsense!"_

"_Go be with your son," Gale said brokenly. "Raise him like a father should. Be there for him when he has nightmares. Be there for every school play. Be there when he has problems of his own."_

"_You're telling me to leave you?" David growled. "I should be with a woman I can never love, that's what you're saying?"_

"_You'll grow to love her," Gale said in a faux calm voice. "It's the only way."_

"_Do you know what the hell you're saying?" David barked, shaking her. "Do you have the slightest idea what you're suggesting? It's impossible!"_

"_It's not impossible. You thought you couldn't ever change but you did," Gale protested. _

"_I changed because of __**you**__! No," David said shaking his head and pulling her into a suffocating hug. "Never. No. No!"_

"_You have to," Gale said, her voice stronger and the sound made him angry._

"_I'm not leaving you!" he shouted. _

"_Do it for me," Gale said softly. "It will make me happy to know—"_

_The rest of her sentence was cut off when his mouth came down on hers in a crushing kiss that took her breath away. She sobbed against his mouth, her fingers tightening in his hair. His arms wrapped were so forcefully around her waist that he might have been hurting her but he was past reason. _

"_I'm not leaving you." _

_Gale only pulled away and this time he let her go, watching her as she put distance between them both. He had a feeling that something between the both of them was breaking with every step she took but he was frozen, not knowing if stopping her would only make it worse. _

"_You can leave whenever is best for you," she said simply and his heart dropped. "You should probably go speak to Katrina tomorrow."_

"_Gale, please," he implored but she shook her head._

"_No, David. You have a family and it would be more honourable for you to go to them. Give your son the father he needs and be a husband to Katrina. I love you but I want you to be happy and if this carries on, we'll just end up hating each other."_

"_Do you hate me?" David asked._

"_Never," Gale denied. "I could never hate you. But I've made up my mind."_

_An image flashed before his eyes of her enveloped in Simon's arms. His gruffness pierced the silence when he spoke again: "Does this have something to do with Simon?"_

_For the first time, Gale's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you dare start that again, David. I'd have thought after all of this, that you'd sort yourself out."_

"_Sort myself out?" David seethed. "Do you think I haven't—"_

"_David!" Gale snapped. "This conversation is over. Go to your family."_

"_This conversation is over only when I say it is!" David roared, the pain searing his heart. _

_Gale threw herself at him suddenly, her arms around his neck and she was whispering in his ear over and over like a desperate woman, announcing a truth before she died; "I love you, David, I love you so much. Be happy… Do it for me." _

_And before he could trap her in his arms and prevent her escape, she was gone and David knew he'd lost her for good. He watched in shock and horror as she walked away from him. The ground seemed to move beneath his feet and everything before his eyes turned hazy. When he heard the click of a closing door, the truth of the situation crashed around him._

_Gale Sanders was no longer his._

* * *

"She told you to leave her?" Klavier's question shot from him like a gunshot.

"Yeah," David said wearily. "I tried to talk her around one last time but her mind was made up. She made me swear I would marry Katrina and take good care of Landon."

"And that is what you did?" Klavier said rhetorically. "Why did you not just refuse to leave her side?" he demanded angrily. To his mind, this explanation didn't make sense, he couldn't understand why Gale would have given David up.

_But how painful would it have been for a woman unable to give him a child, to sit at home while he visits his son… Would I ever be able to understand that? _Klavier asked himself.

"I had no choice," David said. "I couldn't deny her. Part of me wondered if maybe she wanted to be with Simon."

"It had nothing to do with Simon," Klavier said coldly. "She resisted his advances for a long time because she was still in love with you."

David flinched at the words and Klavier felt a twinge of guilt. He took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fist as he tried to remind himself that David was hurting too.

"At the time, though, that's what I thought. I knew that she deserved better. She was miserable with me."

"And when you left her, you never spoke to her again?"

"Yeah. She told me it would be too painful." He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. He took deep breaths as if trying to calm himself. Klavier watched silently as David shuddered and his anger left him, like the rushing waves of the sea that had crashed upon the sand and flowed back out slowly. He could see the unadulterated sorrow radiating from David. The memory of his break-up was visibly raw and haunted him. _If anybody deserves a punch, it is me_, Klavier thought. How many people had he asked to relive a painful memory in this case?

"I am sorry for having asked you to relive that," Klavier said, genuinely apologetic. He didn't know how to react to this final piece except he knew that he didn't really have a reason to hate David anymore. Contrarily, the man had suffered many back-stabbing remarks and hatred from people but Klavier knew why Gale had kept the exchange a secret from everyone. The answer had been in her journal all along:

_If Simon and Lana weren't in my life, I might have still done this just to save David. But Simon and Lana __are__in my life and if it wasn't for David's family, I would have told Rafael where to find him. _

"Is she happy?" David asked suddenly.

Klavier's response was instant. Everything was slipping perfectly into place in his mind and he had to keep up with the array of information churning in his brain. He stood up, knowing that the next step was one of the most cruel things he'd ever done but it was necessary to his plan now.

"Come with me, Herr Rainsford," he said gravely. "It is time to give you the answers."

He'd finally found a sentence excruciating enough for Rafael.

* * *

He had expected David to realise the truth before they even reached the grave. When he didn't, Klavier recognised that sometimes the mind didn't want to face the possibilities – he'd learnt that when his mother had died. David had remained uncharacteristically quiet on the way. Klavier had expected questions about why they were heading for a cemetery but all he got was silence.

When Klavier moved with steady steps towards the decorated grave, it was with dread lining his stomach. Every step that David took with him rested heavier on his heart, stamping on it in fury. There were moments he imagined what Gale would do if she knew what Klavier was putting David through and he winced before reminding himself that the pain was necessary for the ultimate retribution.

"Here is the grave of your brother's victim, David," Klavier said, watching David stop at the mound of grass. "Here is the reason your brother is finally behind bars."

David's eyes dropped to the tombstone with a frown and then he inhaled sharply. He fell to his knees instantly, an anguished _"No!"_ ripping from him a moment later. Klavier watched David's shaking fingers reach out to the engraving and he wished he could change the words etched in the stone there:

_Gale Lana Sanders_

_1988 - 2023_

_Death Is Nothing At All_

_Maybe not to you, Gale, _Klavier thought unable to tear his eyes away from David's trembling hands_. But I've seen what your death has done to these men. _

Klavier made a promise to himself as he lowered himself to a crouch and ran his fingers over the grave gingerly; it would not be for nothing. It would not be buried in the ashes of her secrets. It would not be cast aside, a fragment of her cryptic past. It would soar with a hawk's smooth glide and shine always with the silver brightness of the moon. A cry of triumph would always echo across the winds of time.

Her sacrifice would live on in their minds.

_And_, Klavier thought as he looked at David's paralyzed form, _I know exactly how to complete her victory._


	19. Revelations And Confessions

Revelations And Confessions

'.'

Green eyes call and call

And engulf my sense,

Seductive lips do enthral

Destroying my defense.

Glossy chestnut crown,

My fingers long to feel;

And how my heart drowns,

I struggle to conceal.

.'.

Klavier heard the argument between the two the moment he opened the front door of the house. He slowed, his movements careful, when he heard their raised voices.

"Em, you're going to ma—"

"I don't want to hear it, Deston," Ema interrupted.

"Em, running off like this is unsafe and won't solve anything! C'mon, we can—"

"I prefer death to insanity, thanks," Ema snapped.

A dark frown rolled across Klavier's features as he closed the door behind him and stood in the centre room, trying to make out where the two were. A groan of frustration was quickly cut off by another sharp remark from Ema:

"Don't act all tortured! It's your fault we argued!"

"_What argument?"_ Deston sounded exasperated. "What exactly did you—"

Klavier's eyes further narrowed when he realised the voices were coming from Ema's room.

"I can't do this anymore, Deston! I'm going to Lana's and if you try to stop me, I swear I'll dump every last drop of nonyltrichlorosilane I have in your face!"

"Do you want to make front-page news ag—whoa!" A loud crash followed. "Ema! That could have really hurt!"

"Good!"

"You can't go to Lana's—"

"_Why not?_"

"For the same reason you didn't when all this started – you'll be putting their lives in danger!"

A long silence followed and Klavier felt every muscle in his body tense as he waited for her response. A tiny voice in the reasonable part of his mind asked why he cared. After all, life would be easier if he just put some distance between Ema and himself.

But another part protested violently against the separation.

"Get out."

"Are you staying?"

"Get. Out."

"Ema…"

"GET OUT!"

There was another crash and a moment later, Deston came flying into the room where Klavier stood, torn between amusement and irritation. His friend looked at him, clearly taken aback by his presence. Then, much to Klavier's surprise, Deston's expression morphed into an uncharacteristic one of aggravation.

"This is all your fault," he said accusingly, pointing at Klavier with a newspaper.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Klavier said coolly, making his way around the room to exit out of the side door but the other Gavinner wasn't feeling cool at all. Deston threw the newspaper down on the table and Klavier glanced at it: for the millionth time that day, he saw the picture of Deston and Ema: he was leaning into her, trapping her between himself and a car. His expression was clouded with remorse and Ema looked angry.

Klavier maintained his impassive façade although his insides twisted at the image and he chastised himself again: it was his own fault for moving in on his friend's ex-girlfriend. What else had he expected? All such relationships went awry. It was his own fault. He'd left no time. He'd moved in too fast.

"What's wrong with you, K?" Deston snapped.

Klavier raised an eyebrow sardonically but before he could respond to the question, Ema came blowing in, a scowl etched on her face. She faltered when she saw Klavier standing there but then she was glaring at Deston again.

"What the hell are you doing now?" she demanded.

"Can't we talk about this?" Deston pleaded with her.

"No!" she snapped, glaring at him before her eyes slid to Klavier and narrowed, if possible, even more. "And _you_!"

Klavier stared at her coolly, hitching his thumb in his belt. "Me."

"You could have given me a chance to—" She broke off, apparently deciding against finishing what she was going to say. "Ugh. Forget it." She turned back to Deston again. _"Why are you still here?"_

"I want to—"

"This is his house, Fräulein," Klavier broke in frostily. "It is tasteless to kick a man out of his own home."

Ema flushed.

"Shut it, Klavier!" Deston's voice was hard.

"I have an idea," Klavier continued, ignoring his friend. "I will leave as the Fräulein clearly does not appreciate my company." He stopped at the door to look back at Deston's furious face. "I will tell someone to pick up my things tomorrow."

"Take one more step, Gavin," Deston growled. "Just take one more step and see what happens."

It was the tone of his voice, rather than what he'd said, that stopped Klavier in his tracks. Slowly, his fingers slipped away from the handle on the door, his own anger rising. "What exactly are you threatening to do, Deston?"

"Stop it!" Ema cut in suddenly. "This isn't helping anything!"

Klavier threw her a cold look. "Perhaps if you decided on what you want, we would not be arguing."

Her eyes widened and he felt a pang of guilt at the crestfallen look on her face. Deston snarled but Klavier was barely paying attention; his eyes followed Ema as she fled from the room. His hands clenched and unclenched and he tried to remind himself that no matter how much he wanted to go after her, to apologise and comfort her, she'd brought this on herself.

"You're an idiot, Klavier," Deston said and his voice was strained as if he was trying to be calm.

Klavier fixed his hard gaze on his friend. "I apologise. Whatever is going on between you and the Fräulein is none of my business." He made to open the door again but Deston stopped him again.

"There's nothing between me and Em except a friendship that's threatened by your stupidity!"

Klavier's eyes closed of their own volition and he turned to face Deston again. His heartbeat had started to race as a thousand hopes and questions sprang in his mind. "What are you talking about, Deston?"

"Why are you being a prick to Ema?" Deston demanded. "What exactly has she done?"

"I could ask you the same question," Klavier said, struggling to remain calm. "What have you done to anger her so?"

"_Why don't you just admit you love her and get it over with?"_

Klavier froze. He stared at Deston for a long moment, seeing but not really taking in the livid expression on his friend's face. A part of him noted that he'd only seen Deston this angry once before – a long time ago – and when he remembered that that, too, had been over a woman, his paralysis broke. With a grimace, Klavier threw open the door and marched out.

"That's right!" Deston shouted after him. "Run, K! Run like you always do!"

Klavier ignored him, knowing it was Deston's attempt at getting a reaction out of him but he wasn't going to fall for it – there was too much at stake.

Deston had accused him of being in love and he'd been right – Klavier was in love with Ema but he had no right to her. He had no right to be angry. Ema and Deston might have been convinced that they'd had a clean break but the picture spoke volumes about their relationship and it was evident their break hadn't been as clean as they'd made it out to be.

"Get your ass back here, Gavin!" Deston yelled and he was following Klavier now who was walking right through the cars and police officers standing by. He saw them glance at each other questioningly but he ignored them and continued on, listening to the approaching footsteps of his friend. He tried to focus on anything except the thoughts in his mind. Deston wouldn't start an argument in front of all the officers and Klavier took advantage of that fact to make his way down the steep path to the beach below. He guessed his argument with Deston was going to escalate and he preferred it was done out of sight.

With the speed he was walking at (to keep a distance between himself and Deston), they reached the sandy shore soon. And that was all Deston needed:

"Where do you think you're going?"

Klavier rounded on his friend. "Would you be so kind as to tell me why you are insisting on dragging me into your lover's tiff?" he said stiffly. "I have nothing to do with this."

"Why did you do it?" Deston demanded.

"Do what?"

"Upset Ema. I warned you once before – _take it easy on her!_ So why did you do it?" Deston's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Were you jealous?"

Klavier forced a scoff. "Jealous of what?"

"Don't play dumb, Klavier. It doesn't suit you."

Klavier's eyes flashed. "Why are you badgering me? Go sort out your own problems before attempting to take on mine."

"I _am _trying to sort out my problem. Your jealously is my problem."

Klavier bristled. "I am not jealous of any—"

"Put a sock in it, would you?" Deston cut across him impatiently. "Your jealousy meter skyrocketed the moment I took her out to breakfast."

"W-w-what?" he stammered, shocked. The half smirk that popped up on Deston's face threw him completely and the Klavier could do nothing but stare at his friend.

"You must think the world is blind. Or maybe you hoped." Deston crossed his arms and fixed Klavier with his steady eyes. "It's blatantly obvious to anyone who sees you look at her that you're head over heels in love. And you think that I didn't see it? Me, your friend, who's known you for nine years?"

Klavier's only response was to gape speechlessly. His mind was whirring, trying to put it all together, to make sense of what Deston was saying and what it could mean.

Deston sighed and some of his temper seemed to evaporate. He shook his head and looked out at the calm sea. Then he spoke: "You used to talk about her, you know. I don't think you realised you were talking about your little _Fräulein Detektiv_ with just a little too much affection. You would bring her up randomly, as if she was on your mind all the time. It was obvious to us that there was more to it than just admiration…"

Klavier's mind rewound instantly, trying to recall what he'd said and how it could have given him away. He opened his mouth to argue that he hadn't loved her until after Deston and she began to date but realised to do so would mean he was admitting that he loved her now. His lips pressed together into a firm line and he fixed his expression into one of cool indifference. Deston, however, wasn't looking at him.

"When she walked into the office that day, I saw the way you looked at her. Your eyes just lit up like nothing else existed. I know the feeling. I remember it well…"

Klavier's jaw clenched at the look on Deston's face and the guilt that had been simmering so close to the surface finally spilled over. His mind flickered to the past and he wanted to kick himself for being disloyal. Deston had always been there for Klavier and how had he repaid him? By moving in on Ema…

"Des…" Klavier sighed, his mouth turned downward. He took a few steps towards Deston, who had turned back to him. "I am sorry. I have not been a good friend to you. After Raina…" Deston winced, "I should have been happy for you and Ema instead of making matters more difficult…"

Klavier paused, frowning, when Deston chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "I loved Raina more than anyone in the world, K. I love her now even though she's gone. I'll never love anyone else the way I loved her. As much as I care for Ema… I don't feel that way about her."

Klavier frowned. "You do not love Ema?"

"Only as a friend."

"Then why did you date?" Klavier asked. "Does she know about Raina?"

Deston took a few steps back, looking wary all of a sudden, and Klavier's eyes narrowed in suspicion: he knew that look – it always preceded a guilty confession. "She doesn't know about Raina, no."

"Deston, I hope you have a very good explanation for this."

"I do!" Deston protested, waving his hands in defense. "Listen, Ema doesn't like me either, you don't need to worry! I didn't hurt her!"

Klavier was confused and – as a consequence – getting annoyed. Nothing Deston was saying was making sense and he didn't know what to make of it. "Explain. Right now."

"Yeesh. You and Em are scary." Deston stuffed his hands in his pocket and smiled crookedly. "I pretended to date her to make you jealous so you would do something about this unresolved tension between the two of you. We never really dated – everyone just assumed we were an item."

"_What?"_

Deston laughed at the gobsmacked look on Klavier's face; the cool, rock-star prosecutor was nowhere to be found. "Ema and I are just friends. She's never felt anything for me."

Klavier's eyebrows (which had disappeared into his hair when they shot up in surprise at the revelation) came together into a heavy frown. "And Ema? Why did she agree to the pretence? Was she—"

"She was trying to protect you," Deston said with a small laugh at Klavier's staggered look. Before he could question what was going on, however, Deston threw an arm around his shoulder and laughed. "Boy have I got a story to tell you, K."

* * *

The two Gavinners were perched on rocks, the spray of the sea barely noticed. Klavier was looking out at the velvety horizon and Deston was watching him in silence; he knew that the truth had affected Klavier more than he was letting on. His expressionless face told Deston everything Klavier was trying to hide: he was stunned – to say the least.

Klavier had listened, with disbelief, as Deston told him Ema's suspicions that Deston had been plotting something against Klavier, that the attacks that had coincided with her confrontation of Deston had only fuelled her mistrust and the kiss she'd planted on him at Lana's party had been the first and last – a strategic move in what she had believed to be a war.

He was too flabbergasted to question the vague explanation Deston had given Klavier ('She overheard me and Raoul talking about another case and assumed we meant you' had sufficed). Deston was grateful that Klavier's prosecuting mind was too clouded by shock to see through the holes in that lie. He knew that telling him the truth about Daryan and Kristoph would be too much for Klavier to handle right now.

Klavier could hardly comprehend the magnitude of what Deston had revealed. That Ema had been willing to risk her life to protect him both awed and terrified him. Since his mother's death, he'd never imagined he could have meant so much to anyone… least of all Ema.

_I have to make sure she never does anything like that again_, Klavier thought. _I will never forgive myself if anything happens to her because of me_.

"It wouldn't be _because of you_, K," Deston said quietly and Klavier looked at him in surprise: he hadn't realised he'd spoken aloud. "It would be _for you_."

"Why did she not come to me?" Klavier muttered. "To try and handle it all alone…" He threw Deston a sideways look. "It is fortunate you are not a criminal. She would be doomed otherwise."

Deston laughed. "Yeah. Fortunate." He shook his head in admiration. "You chose well, K. Ema's a very brave girl."

"Too brave," Klavier said gravely, looking at his boots where they rested on the rocks below. He clenched his fist, shaking the arm that was swung over his bent knee and ran a hand through his hair. "I do not want her to endanger her life for me. Ever."

"I've been keeping an eye on her," Deston reassured him. "But you're not helping the situation."

Klavier's response was to shake his head in frustration and clench his fist again. "I still do not understand. Why was that picture so—"

"She came to my office. I made her angry," Deston cut in. "She was walking away from me, she wouldn't listen to what I was saying and I grabbed her but she backed into the car and I kinda got too close in my attempt to make her listen. It was only for a moment… but obviously long enough for someone to take a picture."

"Why was she angry?"

Deston hesitated. "We disagreed over a case detail." He paused. "She slapped me."

"_What?"_ Klavier was wide-eyed and when Deston nodded sheepishly, he roared with laughter. "I missed quite the show!"

Deston lifted a hand to his cheek where (Klavier assumed) Ema had struck him. "She's got hands like a hammer."

"Really?" Klavier murmured, thinking of the way her delicate hands had swept over his face on various occasions. "Those _zierliche Hände?_"

Deston rubbed his face. "Delicate my ass. I'd swear she's hiding steel beneath that skin!"

Klavier shot Deston an amused look. "I suppose it is understandable that the strict Fräulein is anything but delicate."

Deston sprang to his feet and stood on the edge of the rock he'd been resting his feet against. He had his back to Klavier but when he spoke, his tone was serious. "She's strong, K. She's stronger than most women I know." He turned to face Klavier now and his silver eyes glinted in the night. "But she cares about you – a lot. It's true that it's not entirely your fault because you didn't know what was really going on but you hurt her today." Klavier winced and Deston smiled apologetically. "She was blaming me for it, you know."

Klavier looked at Deston. "She was?"

Deston nodded. "She said it was my fault that she and you argued. Did you?"

Klavier's expression contorted into remorse. "A little. When she came into my office this morning, I had only just seen the newspaper and then Herr Chief told me that she was getting transferred to work with you for a while. Needless to say, I was in a foul mood."

"Foul mood having the meaning of psychotic jealousy here," Deston said with a smirk and Klavier laughed sheepishly.

"You have no idea." He threw Deston a shrewd look. "Then again, you do. You know I should be angry at you for the game you played."

His friend grinned. "You're not then?"

Klavier shook his head. "Perhaps when the shock and relief has worn off… _Lauf so schnell es nur geht._"

Deston laughed again. "I'll bear that in mind."

Klavier looked away and tried to get his thoughts in order. Everything that Deston had told him made sense – Ema's behaviour around Deston had always seemed to be tinged with anxiousness (he'd always assumed it was because their relationship was rocky) and now he understood why. The night Ema had collapsed into tears flashed before his eyes and he felt the pain prick at him like a thousand needles; she'd taken on so much stress, worry and fear… _for him_. He'd seen her feelings for him but his vision had been clouded by his belief that she was with someone else, warped by his paranoia that she couldn't love him over Deston… And all along, she'd cared for him more than he realised.

"Has she ever…" he stopped, unsure of himself. He suddenly felt like an adolescent again, asking his friend if the girl at the next table was looking at him. Except, Klavier had never had to ask such questions and it made asking Deston that much harder. "Does Ema feel the same way as I do?"

Deston didn't answer straight away. He uncrossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at Klavier. "_Im Ernst?_" He turned up to the sky and Klavier couldn't help but chuckle when he shouted, "_Ach du lieber Gott!_" He looked as if he wanted to kick Klavier. "_Wir haben es hier nicht mit einem Idioten zu tun, oder?_"

"A fool in love," Klavier agreed.

"Aha! He finally admits!" Deston waved his fist triumphantly and Klavier shook his head in exasperation. "Go sort it out with her will you? Maybe then she won't be after my blood so much!"

Klavier sighed. "_Nein. _Now she will be after mine."

"Just a bit." Deston's eyes twinkled. "Before I forget, I need your help on a case. _But_," he said when Klavier's eyes rose to his questioningly, "that can wait. Go… reconcile! I need her help too, preferably minus the hissing and spitting fire."

Klavier didn't move for a moment and then he sprang up the same way Deston had and balanced himself on the edge of the taller rock, looking at his friend in the eye. He struggled to find the words that would convey his relief, his happiness and most of all, his gratitude. Deston seemed to understand because he shook his head and smiled before gesturing towards the edge of the beach, to the path that would take him back to the house.

"_Beweg dich!_" he commanded. "Your Fräulein awaits."

* * *

Music could be dimly heard coming from the house when Klavier approached it. The officers tried to look as normal as they could but he had a feeling they'd been discussing the possibilities behind the scene they'd witnessed earlier. He didn't care as he was too used to the looks and whispers that came with being famous. He simply nodded at them and stepped through the door of the house and took a deep breath.

"…_trapped in that dark dark place, a defendant in another hopeless case…_

Klavier smiled when he heard his own voice fill the rooms and it gave him some courage – after all, if she could stand listening to his voice, she couldn't really be that angry at him, could she? He reminded himself of that over and over as he made his way to her room, the music getting louder. He didn't really understand why Ema had chosen to listen to 13 Years Hard Time For Love but when he ran over the lyrics and tried to apply them to their situation, he winced.

"_I was cruelly punished by the powers above, to 13 years hard time for love..."_

"Ach," he sounded to himself as he tried to ignore the words to his own song. He needed to stop thinking negatively. He was pretty sure she was more hurt than angry and he had to right that. With this in mind, he knocked at her door, even though he knew she wouldn't hear it, before slowly opening it.

She was sat on the edge of her bed, her head hung and she was still dressed. His heart turned over at the way her shoulders were slumped. Her silken hair fell about her face, hiding it from sight. He moved quietly and it wasn't until he turned off the stereo system that she realised someone was in the room with her. She looked at Klavier with wide eyes as he approached her and fell into a crouch.

"Ema," he murmured, looking into her face: her eyes fell into her lap where tanned fingers slid over her own, engulfing her slender ones in their grasp. "Ema, Ema, Ema…" She sniffed and his heart gave another pang. "I am so sorry for hurting you."

She looked up then and he could see that she'd been crying: her eyes shone with ghostly tears. "Fop."

Klavier smiled, heartened by the word. He touched her face, lifting it a little and moving her hair out of the way so he could see her features clearly. "I am worse than a fop," he said with a shake of his head. "I am an _arsch_."

"Yeah, you are," Ema agreed. She tried to tug her hands out of his grasp but he held on tightly, unwilling to let go. "Get off me, Klavier."

"Ema," Klavier whispered but she was shaking head furiously.

"No, I don't want to hear it. Go away and leave me alone. Do you think you can just say sorry and I'll forget that you – why are you looking at me like that?"

Klavier smiled at the wariness of her tone and shook his head. He was examining her face, mesmerised by the flush of her cheeks, the rising fury in her eyes. Her skin suddenly felt silkier than ever before and her glossy hair slipped forward again, framing the face he loved so much.

He raised a hand, tracing the outline of her face. Whether Ema was entranced by his touch or just shocked by his intimacy, Klavier didn't know – all he cared about was that she wasn't pushing him away. "I cannot believe that these lines harboured such concern for me."

"W–What?"

Klavier smiled. "Deston told me everything."

Her eyes grew wide again. "He did?"

"Ema," he whispered. "Please do not ever do it again. I would… I could never… _bear_… any harm coming to you. It is my job to protect you."

She looked away. "It doesn't matter. I was wrong. Anyway, why is it your job to protect me? I mean it's not like—"

"My job because you are the most important person in my life," Klavier said passionately. He moved closer until her legs were pressed against his chest and their hands locked together. He could feel a fire burning inside him, driving him, screaming at him to let her know how much he loved her. "I need you in my life, Ema Skye, which is why I ask that you forgive me for my behaviour today."

She seemed to struggle with herself, her expression clearly torn between confusion, shock and… longing. He held on to her, fearing that he might lose her irrevocably if he let go. "Why should I?" she demanded.

"Because I was not thinking clearly," he answered instantly. "My mind was torn by longing and jealousy. I thought…" Klavier sighed. "I thought you did not care for me as I do for you."

"How could you think that after the past two weeks?" Ema cried, jumping to her feet and Klavier rose too. "Did you think I was faking my words, my kisses—" she broke off and his hands shot out to grab her arms, to stop her turning away.

"I know," he said softly, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers. "I did not think. I saw only you and Deston and I was assailed by anger. Do you not see, Ema?" he asked fervently. "I cannot bear the thought of any other man touching you. You do not know, how much I—" He exhaled slowly, hanging his head. He cursed himself inwardly, cursed the insecurity that still niggled at him, preventing him from saying those three words.

"How much you what?" Ema asked softly and his blue eyes rose to meet hers again. Her lips were parted and those green jewels were darting all over his face. Unable to stop himself, he pulled her closer until her body was pressed into his. All of his tension ebbed away when her hands came to rest on his arms and then he was hugging her tightly, kissing her hair and murmuring "I'm sorry" over and over. Ema wrapped herself around him too and he closed his eyes against the shame that spread over him.

In his teenage years he'd forged many meaningful friendships with the likes of Deston and with his success he'd gained the adoration of the world. But nothing compared to the selflessness Ema had exhibited, the pure affection that was radiating off her and seeping into his skin. He'd always known that his truest friends would give their life for him as he would for them but with Daryan's betrayal and Kristoph's incarceration, that faith had been severely shaken. Ema was like a ray of sunlight, banishing the shadows that were wrapping themselves around him. She was like the air he needed to breathe.

"Please forgive me, Ema," he implored her, pulling back to look into her face. "I will do anything to—" He was stopped by the feel of her fingers on his lips.

"It sounds odd coming from you," Ema said and Klavier cocked his head.

"What does, Fräulein?" he asked, puzzled.

Ema pulled away silently and this time he let her go, albeit reluctantly. She sighed and fell onto her bed, looking tired. Klavier moved to sit beside her; she was taking slow, deliberate breaths and her eyes were closed. "What is it, Ema?"

She shook her head and looked at him with confusion in her eyes, uncertainty manifesting itself in the way she bit her lip. "I'm not angry at you Klavier. Not really. I'm just…" She took another deep breath.

"Just what?" Klavier said.

"I don't think I… can do… this."

His insides churned. "Have I pushed you too far?" he asked softly. "Do you no longer–?"

"N-No!" Ema said quickly. "I do care for you – a lot! I just…" This time Klavier understood her unfinished sentence.

"You are afraid I will hurt you," he guessed.

"It's not just that."

"Tell me," Klavier said tenderly. "I will do anything to gain your trust."

"It's the whole Gavinners thing," Ema said heavily. "You're all so damn famous. I got a taste of what it's like when everyone thought me and Deston… Ugh. I don't think I can handle it."

"You do not have to," he reassured her, looking into her eyes. "I will do everything to keep you out of the public eye. We could keep it secret."

"There's something else."

"Tell me," he said gently. "Tell me everything."

"Everyone thinks me and Deston… that there's something going on." She glanced at him uncomfortably but he only smiled: it felt so good to him to finally be able to hear her name and Deston's in the same sentence without being torn apart by jealousy.

"And?"

"What if tomorrow there's another picture of me and him and you blow a gasket?"

Klavier smirked. "Are you planning on getting caught in an intimate picture with him any time soon?"

"No!" Ema shouted and he laughed. "I just meant that—"

"I know," Klavier said with a nod. "I will not 'blow a gasket' because now I know the truth."

"Everything?" Ema asked timidly.

"Ja. It was brave of you to take on Devil Deston," he teased and laughed when she shoved him. "As long as we are honest and open with each other, there will be no problem. Could you share everything with me?" He watched her intensely and was relieved when she nodded. "I would do the same with you, Ema. And if there are no secrets between us, there will be no need for arguments and especially not a repeat of this morning." He paused to see if she would say anything but when she remained silent he carried on: "As for the publicity, as long as you work with Deston, the media will remain interested. I am sure, however, we could have a public statement made regarding the both of you but they are generally recommended against because it only serves to fuel the speculation. For my part, I will protect you from all of that. Nobody will hear of it or see us together if I can help it."

"You can do that?"

Klavier leaned back and threw his arms wide open as if he was shocked by her question. "I am Klavier Gavin," he boasted. "I can do anything."

To his surprise, Ema chuckled drily. "Anything except deflate your ego."

Klavier's expression became serious and he slid his hand over her folded ones. "I can do that too," he said quietly. "Because I am nothing without you."

He could see that he'd taken her by surprise: her face snapped up to his and her lips were parted in shock and she was blinking as if she was uncertain she'd heard right. Klavier wondered at how Ema could be shocked by his revelation; he'd thought she would recognise the depth of his feelings.

_You are obviously not the only blind one…_

"That's…" She laughed a little nervously and Klavier watched in amusement as she jumped to her feet, her hands twisting around themselves. "I, er… That's – er… That's a really serious thing to say! Isn't it a little early to be making statements like that?"

"Not early," Klavier disagreed, rising to his feet as well. "Late."

"What do you mean?" she asked breathlessly, staring up into his face.

"I have felt this way for far longer than you can imagine, Ema. It simply took a while for me to submit to it."

It was obvious Ema wanted to know exactly how long it had been and what he meant by 'submit'. She was chewing on her lip, her eyes searching his for an answer and he met her gaze head on. He wanted her to see the truth of his words in his eyes, that there was no lie or exaggeration in his words.

Because there was none.

His conversation with Deston, and seeing Ema now, had made him realise he'd been attracted to her for a long time – even before Deston had stepped into the picture with his match-making project. It had just taken Klavier a long time to recognise the true nature of his feelings. Even then, it had been with the help of his friend. He didn't fully understand why he'd shut the truth out. Maybe it was a lack of acknowledgment or fear of rejection (because Ema had been the only woman to ever resist his charms) but whatever it had been, Deston's scheme had made him realise that no amount of rejection could ever compare to the sight of her in another man's arms. Whatever his reason for his blindness, he knew he could be anything but angry with Deston – he owed him for his interference.

And he knew now, that even if she refused him, he wouldn't give up. He would keep on fighting for her until he won – because he had no other choice.

"Give me a chance, Ema," he whispered, stepping closer. "Give _us _a chance."

Ema looked away. Another deep breath. Her eyes flickered around the room but they seemed out of focus, as if she wasn't really seeing it. And then they were back on him and he felt a twinge of anticipation: there was a hint of hope in her eyes that he recognised – he felt it too.

"You promise to keep it a secret?"

"For as long as you wish, Ema."

"And… And you won't suspect me?"

"Only when you have your Snackoos."

She paused. "And we can… take it slow?"

"As an old lady," Klavier promised solemnly and Ema cracked a smile. "Is it a yes?" he asked hopefully.

There was another pause and he held his breath as he waited for her response. And then – so slowly that it was agonising– she nodded. He stared for several seconds, incredulous and somewhat afraid that he'd misread the gesture or he was imagining things but when she smiled at him shyly and her cheeks caught fire, his heart soared. He enveloped her in a tight hug and laughed with delight: a warmth was spreading through his chest. He could breathe easier now and it was as if the knowledge that she was finally his had enhanced his senses and made the air sweeter than it had ever been before.

"Thank you," he whispered into her hair. She made no reply but to hug him back. He looked into her face and felt a twinge of pleasure at the deepening crimson of her cheeks. It was the fear of pushing his luck that prevented him from dropping tiny kisses on her skin.

"You will not regret it, _mein liebe,_" he whispered.

"Quit with the German, Klavier," Ema chided but the usual scolding tone with which she addressed him was missing. "Or else the deal's off."

"Ack! But Fräulein, my German is just part of my charm!" he laughed.

"Whatever!" she snorted, thumping him playfully.

Klavier only smiled, running a hand through her hair. His hand ascended to the top where he released the mass of brown from its confines. Her dark tresses fell about her face and he looked into her eyes. She was transfixed, almost frozen, but there was a sort of fascination in the way she was watching him, as if she couldn't quite believe what he was doing.

He held her face and kissed her forehead. "Get some sleep, Ema," he instructed her. His insides screamed out for her to tell him not to go, telling him to find some excuse to stay and he struggled to remind himself that she needed some time alone. She had asked for things to be taken slowly and he knew that she needed to come to terms with the decision they'd both just made. So he smiled again and brushed his hand over her cheek, exhaling heavily.

_Parting is such sweet sorrow_, he though wistfully.

She visibly swallowed and the blush deepened. He grinned. "Yeah," she said, looking down. "You too."

"I will see you in the morning," he said and she nodded. He swept her features one last time before sighing and backing out of her room, his eyes still drinking in the sight of her.

"Goodnight," she said with a tiny smile.

"Sweet dreams… Oh and Ema?" he added while pausing in the doorway with his hand on the handle. He glanced at the stereo. "I knew you were a Gavinners fan."

With that, he shut the door. A chuckle escaped him when he heard her gasp followed by the sound of a (reluctantly amused) "Fop!"

* * *

Zierliche Hände - delicate hands

Lauf so schnell es nur geht - run as fast as your legs will carry you

Im Ernst - are you serious?

Ach du lieber Gott - for the love of God/dear God!

Wir haben es hier nicht mit einem Idioten zu tun, oder - we're not dealing with a fool, are we?


	20. Grieving Steps

Grieving Steps

'.'

Ripped to pieces, torn to shreds,

Summoned now, the horror spreads;

Violent storms howl and roar,

Vengeance comes, bringing war.

.'.

He didn't see her that morning. He'd woken early – in fact he'd barely been able to stop thinking of her – and waited. He'd prepared the breakfast, knowing she would be up soon and just as he was squeezing out some fresh orange juice for her, his phone rang. He'd frowned at the unfamiliar number his phone displayed. When he answered the call, however, he knew who it was instantly.

David had sounded far more composed than the day before. After his revelation, the youngest Rainsford had been rendered speechless with grief and when his voice had come back, he'd demanded the facts of the case. Klavier had been wary of the thunderous look on the other's face but had nevertheless told him everything – along with what he intended for Rafael. David had been out of his mind with rage and before Klavier could ask him any questions, he had disappeared. It was when Klavier had come back in his office, several hours later, that he'd received a call from him: David had apologised for his reaction and asked to talk to Klavier again 'soon', to which the young prosecutor had responded by giving David his number.

When soon became this morning, Klavier almost regretted that decision. For a while he debated with himself, wanting to just ring the man back and reschedule for later that day but in the end, his priorities were clear – Ema would understand his absence whereas David might not. And Klavier needed him.

So, with a heavy heart, he'd scribbled a note to Ema, left atop the glass of orange juice and then made his way to work. When he reached his office however, he found David leaning against the wall outside: he was looking down, his arms crossed and apparently in deep though. From that position, he could have easily been mistaken for Rafael. Ignoring the unsettling resemblance, Klavier cleared his throat and those steely eyes rose to meet his.

"Mr Gavin," David greeted.

"Good morning, Herr Rainsford," Klavier said, shaking his hand. After he unlocked his door, he gestured for David to follow him inside. "Take a seat."

"I've been thinking," David said, settling into the chair opposite Klavier, "and there were a few holes in your stories. What aren't you telling me?"

Klavier wasn't surprised by David's shrewdness. He stared at David for a long moment before he pulled a folder out of the cabinet nearby that contained Gale's diary and threw it on the table. The stormy look in David's eyes told him he would need it soon. "I will tell you the truth once we have dealt with Rafael's execution."

"You'll tell me now."

Klavier's eyes flashed as he leaned forward and caught David in a hard stare. "I am not easily intimidated, Herr Rainsford, so do not attempt it. Time is short. It would be in your best interest – as well as mine – that we get on. So I ask that you do not test my patience."

David's expression was cold. Klavier expected an argument because it had fast become obvious that Gale's ex possessed a dark temper which wasn't easily subdued. David had probably spent all his life giving orders with the expectation that they would be followed without question but Klavier wasn't going to bow to that kind of pressure.

"I want to see Simon," he said abruptly.

Klavier's eyebrows shot up, completely distracted by the unexpected request. "Why?"

"I have a few questions for him," David said tightly.

Klavier examined the older man: his face was taut with tension and there was a barely suppressed rage swimming beneath his skin. Part of Klavier was against the idea of bringing him face to face with Simon yet another part of him wondered… Didn't Simon deserve the chance to talk to David? So when he agreed, it was with Simon in mind. Klavier's sympathies lay with him more than anyone else. It was time to close this case once and for all. It was time to bring together the scattered pieces of this horrific puzzle.

He was still repeating that to himself when, half an hour later, he was leading David to Simon's cell. There was an edgy silence between himself and David. Uncertainty gnawed at him. Was he doing the right thing? He knew he was bringing a painful past to Simon's cell which could only have an explosive outcome. Were they ready for that?

The warden glanced at Klavier and nodded quietly as he stopped before the hallway leading to solitary confinement. Klavier paused to look at David.

"Are you ready?"

David nodded and Klavier hesitated, about to ask him the question again because it was obvious that he wasn't paying attention to him. But then he realised he could ask the same question over and over and David would never really listen nor would he ever be ready for this. Instead, he stepped in front of him and took the final steps, opening the door and stepping inside.

Simon was on his back. Klavier wondered if he was asleep but when the door closed behind them, Simon's eyes fluttered open.

"It's been four days exactly," Simon said as he sat up. There was an impatient amusement in his voice and Klavier's already anxious eyes tightened further when Simon turned to face him. "Aren't you a stickler for…"

The sound of a shutting door interrupted him as David came to stand next to Klavier. Simon's eyes moved to rest on the friend he hadn't seen in a decade and he took a step forward. Then stopped. There was a split moment – Klavier could have sworn it was a nano-second that lasted an eternity – in which they both just stared at each other, as if frozen by the sight.

And then they moved. Before Klavier could intervene, David and Simon had lunged toward each other like magnets. Just before David could touch the bars, Klavier threw himself at him and grabbed his arm. David barely noticed. He was growling incoherently and trying to throw him off. Klavier struggled to control him.

"_Keep your distance!_" Klavier commanded David, throwing him against the wall. "Remember what he was to Gale!"

"_You fucking bastard!" _

Simon's voice was tinged with raging menace and for the first time since he'd met him, Klavier knew that Simon was capable of murder. At this moment in time, the only thing keeping him from murdering David were the metal bars he was punching.

"Simon!" Klavier shouted, his hands still on David who seemed to have frozen. Simon's eyes were wild with uncontrolled insanity, his face twisted with violence. Klavier's stomach dropped – that expression was enough to tell him he'd made a mistake by bringing David here.

"Let go of me," David said through clenched teeth. Tearing his attention from Simon, Klavier turned a suspicious gaze on the suddenly calm David. "I won't go near him." When Klavier's grip still didn't loosen, David's eyes moved to meet his. "I would never hurt the man Gale loved. Even if he is responsible for her death."

"Be quiet!" Klavier said sharply. David's jaw hardened but he didn't speak again and the prosecutor moved toward Simon cautiously – he was staring murderously past him. "Back away from the bars, Simon."

"_She's dead because of you!" _Simon hissed at David and Klavier saw the latter flinch.

"Simon!" Klavier snapped.

"You don't know what he's—"

"I do," Klavier cut across him. "Still, I ask that you try to calm down."

He could see Simon struggling with himself – the latter's face contorted into extreme pain; his eyes were shut tightly and his fists had turned whiter than snow. Klavier kicked himself mentally for not preparing Simon for this – what had he been thinking bringing David in unannounced? Just as he'd decided to ask David to step out, Simon banged his fist against the bars and turned away. Klavier watched, his eyes darting back and forth between the two men. Finally feeling that some of the heat had died down, Klavier opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by a voice like icy daggers:

"Why is she dead?" David shot at Simon who stopped in his tracks and Klavier tensed again. A dark silence fell over them.

"The Rainsford name," Simon said quietly.

"What?" David snapped.

Simon faced him again. "The Rainsford name," he repeated in a hard voice. "That's why she's dead."

Klavier groaned inwardly. "This—"

"After all those years of warning me," David said loudly, ignoring Klavier. "After all the fights you started, I leave her in your care and you—_what did you do_?"

"David!" Klavier barked.

"Let him talk," Simon said in a suddenly calm voice. "I want to hear what bullshit defense he has this time."

"Bullshit?" David echoed. "I've spent every year telling myself you'd take care of—"

"_You left her!"_ Simon snarled, kicking the bed violently. "If you'd been around, Rafael would never have had the chance to manipulate anything you fucking asshole!"

"_You knew what Rafe was capable of_!" David raged. _"You should have known better than to fall for his—"_

"Admit it, David," Simon said, his voice rising as well now as he flew at the bars. "You fucked off without—"

"_I didn't leave her!_" David screamed, diving for the cell but Klavier pulled him back again. David ignored Klavier's restraining hand as he continued to yell. _"You think I could have just walked out on her?"_

Simon's anger disappeared fleetingly, and raw shock registered on his face. Then it was gone as quick as it'd come and he was shaking his head, stepping back.

"You're unbelievable, Rainsford," Simon laughed disbelievingly. "I know you've always had trouble accepting the blame but _this_?" He touched his head as if it was going to explode and then he laughed again, a mirthless, hollow laugh. "She's _dead _and you _still _can't shoulder some responsibility. You're _still _the same old arrogant bastard that had the _stupidity_ to leave her."

Klavier glanced at David to see what his reply would be but found the man staring at Simon heavily, his livid expression nowhere to be found. There was a sort of resignation in his features as if Simon's words had finally penetrated his defences. The prosecutor let go of his captive and ran his hands over his tired eyes, wishing he was still at home, waiting for Ema to wake up so he could serve her breakfast.

"You're right," David said. "I was stupid to leave her."

"Stupid doesn't cut it, you bastard," Simon hissed.

"That is enough," Klavier cut in, louder this time and they turned on him. Willing the emotions bubbling inside of him to dissipate, he looked between the both of them before shaking his head.

_I am sorry, Gale, _he apologised inwardly. He didn't know if she would want him to do this but he wasn't left with much choice. There was no smooth way to do this, no perfect timing and no painless manner. From the folder he'd carried under his arm, he pulled out a little black book that only he'd read… The diary that would turn their lives upside down forever.

"You are both wrong," he said gravely. "Neither of you is responsible for her death."

Simon's eyes narrowed instantly. "So David's managed to smooth talk you into believing his bullshit excuse too. I thought you were smarter than that."

"I have proof." Klavier shook his head. "David _is_ telling the truth. He only left Gale because she asked him too." The tall Latino frowned, uncomprehending. "Gale would not tell anybody why David left her because she cared for his safety – and that of his son."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It is not as important as what I have to tell you," Klavier said and held up a hand when Simon sought to interrupt. "I understand you wish to know everything but the fact is that we have little time. Suffice it to say, David is telling nothing but the truth. He resisted Gale's attempts to break up with him. The proof," he added, holding up the diary for them to see, "is in here. I just did not recognize it."

"What's that?" David demanded instantly.

Klavier glanced at him briefly before turning back to Simon. "And when she left you, Simon, she was protecting you as well." He waited for a reply but got nothing except a deepening frown. "The reason that Gale refused to give in to Rafael's demands," he continued heavily, dropping his attention to the diary, "is not because she did not know your address David, nor was it because she loved you. It was because she loved Simon in a way she has never loved another man." He paused, letting the truth of those words sink into Simon's mind, seeing the incredulity and utter shock conquering his passive expression. "She did not die because she was misinformed, a hopeless victim – she died because she wanted to bring Rafael Rainsford to his knees."

* * *

Klavier had done it. He'd finally shared the devastating knowledge he'd been carrying around. Two men, who'd once been the best of friends, were bound together against their will by a fact that had brought anarchy to their well-conserved worlds of hatred and blame.

Simon and David had both received this unwanted gift with suffocating silence. He hadn't anticipated their unspoken acceptance – Klavier had thought it would be difficult to convince them both of the facts but he was doing nothing excepting waiting for them to respond to the secrets he'd spent so long trying to uncover. He wasn't looking at either of them, feeling as if he was intruding upon their misery.

"_Gale…"_ David whispered at last and the sound was broken, riddled with agonised guilt and horrified shock. On the other side of the bars, Simon slid down to the ground, his back pressed against the wall. His arms were wrapped around his head as if he were protecting it from something and Klavier could see his shaking fingers.

His heart had hardened against emotional displays. It had to be when he dealt with them on a daily basis. A frightened witness, a desperate defendant, a grieving friend – he saw it all and he dealt with them efficiently. He offered all the right words that he knew would comfort them and help him to move the process along. Always, he was sensitive while maintaining his professionalism.

But now, as he stood in this room with David and Simon, he felt like a novice, as if he was new at all this. Anything he could think of saying felt inadequate and incomplete. He could only stand with them and share in their anguish.

"_No…" _

The sound came from Simon this time and Klavier took a step toward him. He was concerned for the man – after all, how much could one heart take? He was trembling all over. Broken, incomprehensible whispers were lost in the space between his arms.

Out of the corner of his eye, David moved. Klavier turned to look, just in time to see him walk out of the door. He debated following after him but remembered that the warden was still waiting outside. He moved closer to the bars of the cell and crouched down until he was level with the crumpled form.

"Simon?" Klavier said softly.

There was no reply. The prosecutor waited – he didn't know what he was expecting but he waited nevertheless. He stayed, despite knowing that his presence went unnoticed. He leant against the bars, his back pressed against the metal, and closed his eyes. He had messed up. He hadn't thought it through enough – he'd found all of the pieces and had been in such a rush to put together the puzzle that he hadn't given thought to the danger of his haste.

Adelita had always taught him to think before acting. It had been one of her most emphasised teachings. _Always think everything through carefully, Klavier, _she would say. _And when you are in a hurry, remember to slow down because that is when it will count the most. One shows what he is made of under difficult conditions._

What had he shown? That he was an impatient ass. He hadn't been wary. When it had counted the most, all of his patience had been thrown out of the window and the result lay in the now still outline of Gale's lover. What would she say if she knew that he had helped Simon to die another death?

As if in response, Gale's words echoed in his mind: _nothing I can do now will undo the consequences of my actions._

He glanced over his shoulder. Simon hadn't moved. He leaned his head back once more and swung his arms over his knees, turning his eyes up in a silent prayer when he finally understood why he was still here.

He was waiting for Simon to come back from that black abyss – and Klavier prayed that he would have the strength to do so this time.

* * *

It was an hour later that he returned to his office. He ignored the greetings he got on the way and his employees exchanged puzzled glances, taken aback by Klavier's uncharacteristically dark mood. Upon entering, he threw the diary on the table in anger and fell into his chair, cursing himself incessantly.

Simon hadn't moved from his position for long enough that Klavier had got worried and called a doctor to his cell after which he'd been told to leave. Left without a choice, he'd made his way back to work while he tried to get hold of David and the fact that he wouldn't answer his calls did nothing to help Klavier's mood. The only positive in all of this that he could find was that he hadn't mentioned Lana to Simon yet. It was more of a thankfulness to a higher power than anything else – at least he hadn't been stupid enough to blab that to him.

"Well done, Klavier," he admonished himself. "After all your hard work, you decide to drop the truth on them with all of the subtlety of a bomb."

"Who did you bomb?"

Klavier turned his chair around to see Ema breeze in through the office. He sat up slowly, offering her a tired smile. She faltered when she saw him, clearly disconcerted by his expression. He stood up and walked to the door to close it before sweeping her into an embrace and dropping a kiss at her temple. "Ema," he said warmly.

"Hey," she said softly, putting her hands on his chest and pulling back to look up into his face. "Are you okay?"

Klavier's first instinct was to nod but, remembering his promise of openness, he stopped. "I am afraid I have had a rough morning."

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

He shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "I made a stupid mistake," he admitted. "I rushed into a decision that had less than savoury consequences."

"Anything I can help with?" Ema said, her eyes alight with apprehension.

"It is my mistake," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair. "I will have to rectify it."

"I'm sorry I can't do anything to make you feel better," Ema said.

"Do not worry." Klavier smiled and pulled her close. He looked deep in her eyes. "Besides, you always make me feel better, Ema."

"I think you're programmed to charm anything in a skirt," Ema said in a would-be irritated tone and Klavier knew that she was joking to make him feel better.

"_Am_ I charming you?" Klavier asked.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think you have the—hey!" she exclaimed, bending back when he leaned in for a kiss.

"We are safe from prying eyes," he said softly.

"Klavier!" Ema said and the attempted severity of her gaze amused him.

"I am sorry I was not there this morning." He sighed, touching his forehead to hers. "Again."

Ema was shaking her head, an understanding expression on her face. "I know how demanding your job is." Her eyes flickered back and forth between his. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Now that you are here, _mein liebchen_, how can I not be?" Ema rolled her eyes and he chuckled. "What was that for?"

"You should eat the cheese dripping from your lines, Gavin," she said. "Then you'd finally get a taste of what I have to put up with."

"I would much rather taste your lips," he murmured, leaning in again but she raised her eyebrows while pushing him away.

"What have you done to deserve a kiss?" she demanded.

Although he was a little taken aback by her unflinching question (he'd expected some measure of shyness after the way she'd behaved last night), Klavier chuckled in relief. This was the Ema he loved and he was glad that she wasn't just acceding to his requests simply because she knew he was upset. He appreciated that more than anything else and it was one of the reasons he'd fallen for her.

"Did you enjoy breakfast?" he asked, changing the subject.

Ema sighed and he grinned, wondering if it was paining her to admit to it but then her hand went around his neck and she suddenly drew him into a kiss that caught him by surprise. Smiling against her mouth, he wound his arm around her waist, tracing his fingers up and down her back, while brushing the hair away from her face. The voluptuous shape of her body was so perfectly encased in his arms that he thought he could happily perish. She was warm and soft and she was causing shocks of lightning to jolt through him over and over. He wanted her, wanted her more than he could explain, more than he thought was possible.

Ema's arms were twisting around him, her fingers dancing on his skin like static. His cheek felt as though it had been burned when she placed a hand on it, like liquid fire that trickled down his throat and settled in his chest. She was burning him alive…

"Was that for breakfast or because you could no longer resist my charms?" he asked when she pulled back. He fully expected a vehement denial of the latter and a maybe-grudging confirmation of the first but when she gave him the answer, his smiled faltered into surprise for a moment.

"Neither," she said, brushing down the lapels of his jacket. "Although breakfast _was _amazing. Thanks."

"Then why did you grace me with such a heavenly kiss?" Klavier enquired.

Ema only smiled, drawing a distance between them. "I've got to go. I was meant to meet Deston half an hour ago."

"And you came here first?" Klavier stepped towards her.

"Yep," she confirmed, stepping back. "And now I'm late." As she began to walk away, his hand shot out to wrap around her wrist. She glanced at it in an off-handed way. "I'm armed, you know. Jumbo Snackoos."

"Willing to waste Snackoos on me…" Klavier said casually drawing her close. "Sacrificing punctuality…" He enveloped her in his embrace again, moving his face nearer to hers and revelling in the feel of her minty breath racing across his skin. "And then kissing me for no apparent reason. This is most unlike you, Fräulein Skye."

"Hmmm…" A thoughtful look overcame her and Klavier smiled when she narrowed her eyes at him in distrust. "About that breakfast you prepared… You didn't lace it with something did you?"

"Such as?"

"Your pheromones?" Ema tried to yank her hand away from him but Klavier held fast.

"Dinner tonight?" he suggested. "I will cook."

"I don't know when I'll finish, Klavier," Ema sighed.

"Neither do I," Klavier said with a shrug. "But I still b—"

He was cut off when Ema stood on tip-toe and planted another kiss on his unsuspecting mouth. He blinked, momentarily dazed, and tried to focus. He hitched his thumb in his belt loop, embarrassed that he'd lost his cool, and cracked a lop-sided smile at her. Ema's eyes twinkled up at him. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

It was his turn now. Klavier took her heart-shaped face into his hands and kissed her languidly, letting his answer seep through the contact of their skin. When he released her, the slight flush on her milky skin boosted his confidence and he chuckled.

"The Fräulein cannot resist the Gavin charm after all!"

"Get over yourself, Klavier," Ema said dismissively, heading for the door, but the breathless quality of her voice wasn't lost on him. "I most definitely _can _resist it."

"Can you?" Klavier watched her with a devilish grin as she threw open the door and paused to look at him.

"Of course." The uplifted corners of her mouth rose higher. "But maybe I don't want to." And then she was gone and Klavier sighed, a smile playing around his lips as he watched her disappear.

The prosecutor was rooted to his spot for a long time. He was lost in the unbelievable fact that Ema had conceded to finally offer herself to him. The freedom he'd gained from the truth was so great that it still hadn't sunk in. The best way to describe what he was feeling was to compare it to those dreams he had, dreams where he was walking on wisps of cloud, among a still wind that cooled him deliciously. He was caught in a surreal reality where his deepest desires had come to rest at his feet.

He had to find some way to thank Deston the way he deserved to be. He'd never imagined he would ever be trying to find a way to repay him – after all, he was the very man that had been at the centre of all the jealousy and uncertainty that he'd thought he could never escape…. Klavier marvelled at how quickly things could change and the liberty that truth carried with it.

_But it's not always liberating, is it, Gavin? _a voice inside of him spoke up and his eyes flickered to the black diary on his desk. Another truth came to overshadow his own, one that he'd handled carelessly. His dimming eyes flickered momentarily towards the door Ema had left through and a desire to go after her washed over him.

Klavier sighed. He knew that wasn't the answer. His mother hadn't brought him up to run away from his mistakes and problems. That had been his father's creed and the one thing he remembered with intense clarity was his mother's warning never to follow in his footsteps. He understood fully the wisdom of her advice now. Kristoph had followed Stefan Gavin's way of life and where was he now?

It was this reminder, more than anything else, that pushed him towards his desk where he picked up the phone and dialled a familiar number. There was only one way to remedy the mistake he'd made and only one person who could set it to rights. It was time for the beginning of the end.

* * *

"Welcome back to Medium Valley, Mr Gavin," Pearl said, greeting him at the entrance of the Manor.

"Dan—thank you, Pearl," Klavier said with a nod. He followed her gaze to the two men behind him. "They will be joining myself and Maya today."

"I understand," Pearl said with a nod. "She is still making the necessary preparations. Please follow me."

He nodded at the police escort. Two placed themselves silently at the entrance like stone statues, taking their rightful places, while the rest spread around the house to secure it. Klavier gestured for David and Simon to follow the young medium and they did so without question. She led them to the waiting area. It was exactly the same as last time but he was surprised to find Godot was there, leaning against one of the walls, his face lowered and a cup of coffee in his hands. Klavier hadn't seen him during his last visit and he remembered now that Diego Armando had chosen to live with the Feys after his release. At the sound of their footsteps, he straightened and the blaring red lights of his visor turned towards them.

"Mr Gavin," he said with a smirk. "Here on business?"

"Something like that, Herr Armando," Klavier replied, nodding. "I trust you are well?"

"Ha…!" He gulped his beverage. "A coffee tree only bears more and more fruit as it gets older."

The rock-star cocked his head. "I cannot pretend to understand your ambiguous response so I will simply assume that to mean you are doing well."

Pearl giggled and they both turned to look at her. Her cheeks coloured slightly. "Please wait here," she said to all of them from the half-open door of the Channelling Chamber. "I'll tell Mystic Maya you've arrived."

"I want to know what's so special about this place," David said suddenly and Klavier suppressed the urge to snap at the man: he'd been asking the same question over and over during the journey, despite Klavier's reassurances that he would find out soon enough. "You're telling me that I'll get all the fucking answers from this place?"

"Yes," was Klavier's curt reply.

"What are we going to do, hold hands and sing Kumbaya and the truth will just dawn on us?" David sneered.

"You have only to wait a little longer," Klavier said with forced patience.

"I want some damn answers!" David's voice rose.

"Shut the hell up and wait, Rainsford," Simon cut in quietly, drawing Klavier's attention to him. Dread jolted through him again: the Latino's head was lowered and his eyes downcast. Klavier had been relieved to hear that Simon had recovered from the shock but he'd become extremely quiet, even going so far as to ignore people at times. The blond tried to stem the intense guilt that surged up inside of him. Klavier had screwed up but he was certain that his decision now was the right one. He was confident this was exactly what Simon needed.

"Don't tell me what to do," David snarled.

"I thought I just did," Simon retorted.

"Fuck you."

Simon laughed derisively, glancing at David. "Fuck you twice, bitch."

"Alright, cool it," Klavier ordered, stepping in between them. They both quietened but he thought it had more to do with the fact that they didn't know what to say to each other than anything else. Ever since Klavier had told them about Gale's plan, her knowledge of David's whereabouts and Simon's involvement, the two men had given each other the cold shoulder whenever they were in the same vicinity. Of course, David could hardly pick a fight with someone who refused to talk.

Suddenly, Klavier found Simon's black eyes fixed on him. "Is this it?" he asked.

Klavier paused. He was only guessing at what Simon meant but it didn't really matter if he was wrong. This _was _it. This was where it all began – and ended.

"Yes."

Simon didn't say any more and Klavier glanced at David who'd turned his back to them. Deciding that it was probably not a good idea to have them both in the same room without any protection, he approached Godot.

"Keep an eye on them both, _bitte_," he said in a low tone. He responded by nodding sharply and Klavier stepped out of the room to beckon one of the guards in. "Are you armed?" The officer nodded. "I need some security in this room." Klavier led the man inside and joined Godot on one side of the room while the guard moved to stand near Simon. He inhaled deeply, flicking his bangs out of his eyes. The stifling silence was starting to echo of a thousand unheard whispers and accusations. He knew that the reasons Simon and David hated each other had no real basis in fact except in that they had both loved the same woman. But how would they behave when they were both put in the same room as her, after years of seeing each other – or her? How would things turn out when the three were reunited?

"They're fighting over a woman," Godot said unexpectedly and Klavier looked at him, taken aback.

"It is a little more complicated than that."

"She's dead and they're both blaming each other as well as themselves for it," the older man said. Klavier averted his gaze from the red glare and looked at Simon whom Godot gestured towards with his mug. "He dies inside every day because of it."

"You are perceptive, Herr Armando," Klavier acknowledged.

"Conscience keeps more people awake than coffee," Godot said vaguely and the prosecutor looked at him quizzically. "Perception be damned, Gavin. Look at him," he said nodding towards Simon. "He's dead but still breathing. He's awake but still dreaming… still stuck in a nightmare he can't escape."

"I _am_ his escape," Klavier said firmly.

"You're an idealist, Gavin," Godot said. "Maybe that isn't such a bad thing but a spoon of sugar changes the taste of coffee, not its nature."

"You think I am naive for believing my ideals will change how I live my life," Klavier surmised.

Godot's smirk stretched over his perfect teeth. "There _is_ more behind that pretty-boy face of yours then."

Klavier ignored the jibe. "What am I not changing?"

"Ideals only help us to make life pretty, Gavin," Godot said, shaking his cup and watching the coffee splash against its confines. "And then one day they'll turn on you and stab you through the heart while the world watches and laughs. Take the sugar out of a man's brew and he'll find that what he's really drinking is the nectar of hell. Just like that, ideals ruin your outlook on life when they come crashing down." He turned his face towards Klavier so he got the full blast of the lights. "And they _will_ crash - sooner or later."

"Are you saying I should do nothing to help him?" Klavier said, his voice rougher than he'd meant for it to be. "Simon is a good man, ca—"

"I'm not saying don't do anything. Just be careful how you do it," Godot explained. His smile faded. "And who you endanger."

Klavier's eyebrow made its slow ascent and it disappeared into his hair as he took in Godot's meaning. "I am not endangering Miss Fey," he reassured him coolly. "Simon is not a murderer."

"Glad to hear it," Godot said although his voice retained its frostiness. "I won't let anything happen to Maya or Pearl."

"There is no doubt in my mind of that," Klavier said. "Do not be alarmed."

Though Klavier couldn't be sure, Godot appeared to scrutinise him as if looking for a chink in the armour of his guarantee. The prosecutor's face remained confident and when Godot spoke again, his voice was no longer threatening; "Then all the best to you and your case, Gavin." He raised his mug as if to toast to him and then, with another distinguished smirk, sauntered out of the room. Klavier watched him go with interest: Diego Armando had chosen to live with the Feys and, considering his deep connection to Mia Fey, it seemed like the logical thing to do. However, his warning had made Klavier realise that there was more to Godot's reasons than a need to be close to his lover's family. It seemed that the man had chosen to become the protector that Phoenix Wright once had been.

"Mr Gavin?"

His head spun to find Pearl standing by the open door of the Channelling Chamber, looking around the room uncertainly.

"Mystic Maya is ready for you now."

Klavier's heart skipped a beat and he looked at David and Simon. The former was looking from Pearl to Klavier with incredulity. "Mystic?" he echoed as if he'd finally heard something he'd been dreading. "You brought me to a fucking medium? With the government employing a bunch of idiots who believe in supernatural crap, it's no wonder you're all so incompetent!"

"Stop swearing," Klavier commanded. "I would not waste time and money on something that had no authenticity. Now you can choose to miss it and stay out here or you can follow myself and Simon in there. It is your choice, Herr Rainsford."

"What, we're gonna—" he broke off and Klavier frowned at the contemplative look that swiftly came to shroud the disbelief in David's eyes. The man's expression changed completely and he focused his steely gaze on Pearl who was shifting nervously.

"Are you coming?"

David's head jerked in a sharp nod and Klavier frowned again, vaguely intrigued: what had come over the man? Then he was distracted by Pearl's shuffling feet and, sparing a glance at the officer who had moved forward, he shook his head indicating he should stay outside. "Lead the way, Fräulein," he said to Pearl.

"I'm sorry but could you…?"

Klavier understood when she glanced at their feet. "Of course. My apologies." He turned to instruct the men to remove their footwear and they did so without any argument. Then, Pearl gestured for them to go through the door she held open.

Maya's greeting wasn't as cheerful this time – maybe it was because Klavier had brought company and she was nervous. She bowed slightly, welcoming them, and invited them to be seated. Klavier was the only one who spoke and she kept her gaze determinedly fixed on his face.

"It's okay, Pearly," she said to her cousin who was still standing in the doorway. "Go sit with Diego. I'll call you if I need you." The younger medium nodded and closed the door after stepping out, leaving them all with the flickering shadows conjured by the candlelight. "Mr Gavin. I'm sure I know everything that I need but is there anything you'd like to add before we start?"

He could feel Simon and David's eyes burning holes into the side of his face but he ignored them. "Only one – it would be best if you locked the doors. I do not want any of this leaving the room."

Maya nodded and drew an ornate key from the pocket of her robe. She padded over to the door and turned the lock until there was a loud _click! _Then, as she walked past him, she handed it to him. He glanced up at her in surprise and she smiled. "You're the best person to hold this right now," she explained. He nodded and took it from her, pocketing it.

Maya dropped to her knees before them all. Her eyes moved over to Simon and David. Klavier winced when he saw their stony features but was relieved that they hadn't argued with each other or anyone else. He hoped they would remain cooperative until the channelling was underway.

"I need you all to close your eyes," she told them.

"Why?" To Klavier's surprise, it was Simon who asked the question.

"For loads of reasons," Maya said vaguely. "Trust me."

Simon and David's heads lowered in unison and both their eyes closed almost simultaneously. It was a strange sight for the prosecutor, for them to mirror the other's actions while harbouring such intense enmity for one another. He hoped the coming shock would diminish that hatred.

_This is what I have been waiting for… please let it work, _he prayed silently.

Klavier and Maya looked at each other one last time. Then he pulled that black curtain of darkness over his own vision and waited for the sound of Gale's voice.


	21. A Long Awaited Reunion

A Long Awaited Reunion

'.'

Let the Earth split asunder, driven by his yearning,

Let the sky roar with thunder, that she is returning.

Come forth the cursed, try to halt the advance,

For justice, a thirst, will show in their glance.

.'.

"_I don't have time for this," Gale snapped, walking away from David._

"_Give me your phone," he ordered, following her stubbornly. _

"_No." _

"_Gale," he hissed. "Don't make me angry."_

_She rounded on him fiercely. "Or what?" she challenged. "Are you going to hit me?"_

"_You know I'd never hit you," he said almost instantly, as if he'd anticipated her question, and held a hand out to her. "Just give me your damn phone!"_

"_Shut up!" _

_He surveyed her quietly. "You were talking to Simon, weren't you?"_

"_Yes, I was," Gale admitted, defiantly. "Is there something wrong with that?"_

_David's form seemed to expand, taking over the room and killing the light. His eyes flashed dangerously and her gaze was drawn to his fists. She narrowed her eyes at him darkly, a knowing smile on her face. He looked away, as if he couldn't bear the sight of her, and her insides churned in anxiousness. She swallowed against the lump at the back of her throat._

"_I bet you want to kill me right now," she guessed._

"_Don't be stupid," he said stiffly, still refusing to look at her._

"_I'm not the one being stupid," Gale said, turning her back on him. "Do you know how absurd it is that you and Simon can't even stand in the same room because of me? Do you have any idea how unfair it is that you won't let me talk to my friend—__**your**__ best friend—"_

"_He's not my friend," David barked. _

"—_when I am willing to deal with your__** visits**__ to Katrina."_

"_I don't feel anything for the stupid woman!" he roared. "I go for my son! She's not trying to steal me!"_

"_Isn't she? I bet she's trying more than Simon ever has."_

_David spun Gale around to look at him. "I love you! I would never – ever – cheat on you."_

_Gale was incensed by the implication in his words. "__**I **__would never cheat on __**you**__! I don't love him!"_

_David's answer was quick, abrupt, and it left her reeling : "Don't you?"_

"_What are you…?"_

"_I've known Simon for a long time. I've seen how he makes women fall in love with him. He's a player, he flirts with anything in a skirt – even chicks he doesn't like! What do you think would happen to the woman he loves?"_

"_Nothing's happened to me," Gale said coldly. "I resent that you think I'm just another bimbo."_

"_Can you honestly tell me," David said in a soft voice, "that you wouldn't rather be with him, given the choice?"_

"_Yes, I can," she replied, firmly. "Because I do have the choice. If I wanted to be with him, why would I still be with you?" Inexplicably, David winced but Gale barely noticed. "And you're wrong about Simon. He's gone out of his way to stop anything coming between me and you, he left the country to—"_

"_We're still arguing, aren't we?" David snapped._

"_Only because you're a paranoid—"_

_Both David and Gale turned to look at the front door when a knock interrupted their argument. She threw him a warning look meant to communicate that he should behave himself in front of their visitor. David glowered and, clearly unable to comply with her request, disappeared through the doors to the balcony. _

_Gale took a deep breath, ran her hands over her face and through her hair, and walked to the door. Her fake smile faltered when a second, more urgent, knock sounded. Could she pretend they weren't at home? She almost turned her back on it, unable to face anyone in her current state, but the manners that had been so deeply ingrained into her by her parents wouldn't allow it. She took another deep breath and paused to plaster a warm smile on her face before she turned the keys and opened the door._

_Her smile died instantly and her heart stopped when she saw who it was. "Simon."_

"_Are you okay?" Simon asked, worriedly. "I heard David's—"_

"_Simon, go!" Gale hissed. "You can't be here, David's—"_

"_I don't believe this." _

_Gale's eyes closed in resignation but the expression lasted for mere seconds before she turned on David. Her thumping heart increased its pace when she saw the furious way he was glaring over her head. She glanced back at Simon whose own face had hardened. _

_Don't fight, she thought desperately. Please don't fight._

"_Listen, just—"_

_But David __**wasn't**__ listening. "What the fuck is your problem?" he yelled at Simon. _

_Simon looked like he very much wanted to tell David exactly what his problem was but the look he threw Gale made it obvious he didn't want to make matters worse. He glanced back and forth between her and his friend, and her heart turned over at the struggle of emotion that crossed his face._

_Get out of here, Simon, she pleaded him with her eyes. Please just leave…_

"_I'll go," he said in a low voice. "Take care of yourself."_

_Iciness washed over her; she didn't want him to go, didn't want to be left alone with David. She knew that all she had to do was shake her head, even the tiniest bit, and Simon would understand and a thousand horses wouldn't be able to drag him away. Yet the selfless part of her, the part that her parents had nurtured so thoroughly, told her that that wouldn't be fair. He'd already lost a friend because of her, already done so much for her that she couldn't ask for anymore. _

_So all she did was the one thing he'd been waiting for – she nodded and cracked a brave smile. The disgusted look he gave David told her he wasn't convinced by her charade but it was enough to make him leave. Gale watched with rising desperation as he turned on the spot to head down the stairs, wishing she could go with him…_

_And that's when David dived._

"_David, no!" Gale cried._

_He yanked at Simon's shoulder, swinging his fist back for a punch but Simon was faster – he reacted instinctively, twisting free of David's grasp and ducking the blow. As he spun on the spot, his fingers curled inwards and found their aim in David's stomach who doubled over at the impact. Gale's cries were lost amid the snarls ripping from David's throat as he rose to attack again._

"_Simon!" she screamed. "Don't!" _

_Simon's elbow, which had come close to crashing into David's face, stopped. He gazed at her for a moment, blinking through a red haze of fury and adrenalin. Gale wasn't looking at him though – her attention was fixed on David whose savage expression was frightening her. She recognised that unreasonable, crazed look and when he moved, Gale reacted without thinking; she jumped straight into the path of his attack. _

"_GALE!"_

_David's fist slammed into her temple and she crumpled at their feet like a ragdoll. The world exploded before her eyes, fiery sparks swimming amidst black shadows that crept forth from the edges of her vision. A dull ache was spreading through her mind but she didn't care – although only dimly aware of their shouts, Gale was comforted by the sound of their voices. _

_At least they aren't fighting anymore…_

"_Keep your fucking hands off her!"_

_She didn't know who said the words. She was unaware of anything except the soothing hum ringing in her ears now and the sound scared her. Was that Death calling to her…?_

"_Gale," a soft voice whispered. "Stay with me, baby… We're almost there…"_

"_No," she breathed. She wouldn't go… She wanted to live… She wouldn't listen to the voice…_

"_It'll be okay," it reassured her gently. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. Just stay with me…"_

"_Simon," she breathed, her eyes fluttering open. A rush of colours blinded her and she cried out in pain. She needed Simon – he wouldn't let them take her! He would take care of her… "Simon—"_

_Her voice died as the blackness crept in again. She was sinking, sinking… sinking into the ocean, misty fingers pulling her under but she pushed against them. _

"_No, let go of me! I don't want…to die…"_

"_You're not going to die," it said harshly. "You're not going anywhere."_

_She frowned. Whose voice was it? What did it mean? Why was it telling her to stay if…Wasn't she dying? _

_Warm fingers wrapped around her hand and she shivered at their warmth, feeling a sudden fire rush through her. _

"_Simon," she repeated louder and more desperately. "I need Simon…"_

"_I'm right here, baby. I'm right here for you."_

.'.

Klavier felt a hand settle on his arm lightly and his eyes flew open in shock; Gale was leaning in front of him, her eyes boring into his questioningly. He glanced at David and Simon furtively – both of them still had their eyes shut.

Gale's fingers tightened on his arm, drawing his attention back to her. In the flickering candlelight, Klavier could see the apprehension marring her smooth features and guilt overwhelmed him. He understood that the situation he'd brought her into was unfairly sudden but how could he have prepared her for something like this? And the truth was, he'd not been entirely certain if she would have acceded to such a request. What if Gale had refused to meet with them or answer anymore questions? There was too much at stake – it was vital for Simon and David to see her, to talk to her… to finally be able to rest their hearts and minds. He'd promised her that he would finish what she'd started but he couldn't do that until the wounds both men nursed were healed, until their strength was nurtured by the only person who possessed the power to do it.

So when she shook her head slightly, fear sparkling in her eyes like a dying star, Klavier took both her slender hands in his and squeezed them comfortingly. There was nothing he could do to make the intensity of the coming conversation any easier. They both knew that the moment Simon and David opened their eyes and saw her, everything would have to come out… but by holding her gaze encouragingly, Klavier was letting her know that he was going to be there for her. He knew the truth, he was on her side – and he understood.

_I am here for you, _he mouthed to her.

Gale's shallow breaths worried him but then she nodded and smiled shakily. Her hands slid out from in between his and she turned to look at the still figures of the two men who'd shaped her life into the exquisite tragedy it was now. Klavier saw her attention fall on Simon first and nostalgic reverence coloured her eyes, glazed with liquid sorrow. Her hand hovered in the air, unsure and scared, like that of a pilgrim longing but unwilling to feel a shrine for fear of tainting it with her touch.

Simon stirred suddenly, frowning, and Klavier saw Gale's breathing stop. She moved back, quiet and swift – and waited with baited breath. But Simon did nothing else.

Gale turned to Klavier then, despondency and dread in her expression but Klavier simply took her hand again, staring at her.

_For a woman with such extraordinary courage, you are behaving as frightened as a mouse_, his eyes said. The submissive amusement of her smile told him that she agreed. She nodded, calm once more and this time, she approached Simon and David fortuitously. There was no hesitation in her face when she stopped before them, no unsteadiness when she reached out to both of them and no fear when she touched their arms.

Simon and David stiffened. Klavier took a step forward to be closer to Gale but she barely noticed. A sigh escaped her when neither responded and she fell back a step. Klavier worried that she'd lost her nerve again but that fear was allayed when she ran a hand over her face, still staring at them both, and shook her head. An annoyed, ragged sigh escaped her.

And then they opened their eyes.

There was a sharp intake of breath from one of them but Klavier was looking at Gale and didn't see who it was. He moved closer to her, concerned, when she shivered suddenly and her eyes fell to the ground. When Klavier looked at Simon and David, he understood why: they towered over her dangerously, their eyes ablaze with the fires of hell.

Klavier instinctively stepped in front of Gale.

"What do you think you're playing at?" David hissed.

"Would you care to elaborate, David?" Klavier said calmly but he already knew what the problem was.

"Do you think this is some fucking game?" David shouted, approaching him.

"I am afraid I have no idea what you mean," Klavier responded. Gale's fingernails dug into his arms and he could feel her pressing her face into his back. He glanced at her over his shoulder and his heart turned over; her eyes were tightly shut and her pursed lips told him that she was trying hard not to cry. The sight angered him. Gale Sanders had died to save these men and even in death she was unable to find the peace she deserved.

This was the last straw, Klavier thought as he turned a steely gaze on David and Simon. None of them would leave this room until this was resolved.

"You think you can find a look-alike and fool—"

"I beg your pardon," Klavier interrupted, his eyes flashing. "She is not a look-alike."

"_Gale is dead!" _David yelled. _"You showed me her grave!"_

"And after that, you think I would present to you a doppelganger?" Klavier shot at him. "For what purpose?"

"'Cause you're a bastard," David bit back.

"You're asking us to believe that you've brought Gale back from the dead," Simon said in a quiet voice but the warning in his words was louder than any shout. He was staring at Klavier with something akin to disappointment. "There's no coming back from the dead."

"I know that," Klavier said.

"Then are you telling me she's alive?" Simon said menacingly. Klavier felt Gale stir behind him. "Because I watched her get stabbed. I held her while she died."

"You _did _hold me while I died," Gale spoke up suddenly stepping around Klavier; she made her way towards Simon with slow, steady steps as the prosecutor watched apprehensively. "But I'm still here."

Simon looked at Gale coldly. "Stay there," he ordered in an icy voice.

"Or what?" she challenged, unceasing her advance. "What are you going to do?" she whispered and Klavier saw something flicker in Simon's face. "What are you going to do, _Signor_ Lowes?"

There was no mistaking the shock this time but it lasted only long enough for Klavier to identify it before it was gone again.

"What happened to your perseverance, Simon?" Gale murmured, stepping closer still. _"Chi la dura la vince. _What happened to that man?"

Now Klavier saw the barrier break and recognition spilled into Simon's features, unstoppable and resolute. He watched Simon's jaw slacken and his black eyes caved into themselves like a fragile structure that had been falling apart for centuries. He staggered, throwing his arms up as if to ward off the inconceivable truth, denial etched into every line of his handsome face.

"It can't be…" Simon whispered.

Gale's answer was to pull him close and put a finger to his lips. Time stopped – Klavier saw it. All the songs he'd sung about love, about life and the truth and justice… all of them dissolved into the ether now. He was hit with a love so intense that it had survived death itself and Klavier was left breathless.

Gale stood before Simon as if they'd never been apart and the years of separation melted, giving way to naked longing. She stared at him in wonderment following the path her fingers traced over the planes of his face and, in turn, Simon stared at her – stared with haunted doubt turning to blistering adoration. His eyes, which had thirsted for so long, drank from hers. His heart, that had hungered for her, feasted at last. A shiver shook him when her touch raced over his cheek and he was moved into action, unable to bear the distance between their bodies any longer; he engulfed her frame in his aching arms in a union that was meant to trap her forever.

"How?" Simon breathed into her hair and Gale was lost in his embrace until Klavier could see little more than the white robes she donned. "It's not possible…"

"It's _not _possible," David said and Klavier looked at him, momentarily surprised. David was scowling at Simon. "Should have known you'd be stupid enough to—"

"Hey thoughtful," Gale said suddenly, turning her head in its place against Simon's chest and David stilled instantly. She was smiling. "What you brooding about?"

Klavier didn't understand why David and Simon seemed to mirror each other's reactions the way they did. The only explanation he had for their synchronised movements was that their past friendship had rubbed off on them. If he was right, it was a testament to how deep their friendship had once been – the way David faltered resonated Simon's reaction such that Klavier couldn't help but stare in amazement.

"There's no way. I don't believe it," David said insistently but he couldn't take his eyes off her. "I saw the—"

"David," Gale sighed. "I told you there was a life after death and you always asked me for proof. Well, here I am."

David was shaking his head. "No. The dead don't just suddenly come t–to possess people!"

Gale looked at Simon and her eyes moved between his questioningly. He nodded at her and his arms unwound from around her, albeit reluctantly. Klavier watched Simon's face when Gale moved toward David and he thought he saw a flicker of insecurity stain Simon's smooth expression.

"Okay then," Gale said, giving David a hard stare. She took one of his hands – Klavier noted that David didn't resist – and lifted it. Her fingers skimmed across the skin of his wrist. "I know how you got this," she said softly, without looking down.

"I doubt that," David sneered but Klavier heard a tremble in his tone.

"You were 12," she continued, undeterred. "On your way back from school, Rafael stopped you. He had his girlfriend with him." David's eyes widened and he took a step back but Gale held on, tight. "They taunted you. They hurt you." David shook his head, not in denial but in alarm, horror colouring his eyes. "When you walked away," Gale murmured, "you had this scar."

"_No…"_

"You told me that I was the only person who knew," she said, stepping closer and tilting her face so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You said I was the only one you had ever admitted the truth to."

"It… No…" His voice belied the words; the fight had left him and he had deflated, accepting the truth at last.

"It's me, David," Gale said softly.

And that was all it took.

Overwhelmed, David pulled her into a suffocating hug and he was whispering into her ear, words that Klavier didn't hear but sounded like reprimands, endearments and apologies. Klavier's eyes flickered towards Simon: his features were tight.

"Welcome to the club, _stronzo_," he scoffed.

David ignored him, pulling back to cup her face. "My God," he breathed. "Gale, I—" He paused, swallowing loudly as he brushed her hair back and caressed her face desperately. "What the hell did you do? What did you…?"

Klavier saw the way she stiffened and the air cloaked them with its disquieting silence. Gale looked at Klavier with a desperate request in her eyes: _please don't tell me they know…_

"I told them," he said simply.

Gale's eyes widened and her alarmed eyes latched onto Simon's dark ones. "How much?"

"Your plan with Kade," Klavier said. "Your reasons for it." When he saw the growing dread in her gaze, he continued vaguely; "That you did it all to bring Rafael down because he'd threatened the people you loved."

Gale's apprehension lessened visibly when Klavier finished and she took a deep breath, looking down, relieved. David took her by the arms, looking into her eyes.

"What were you thinking?" David asked, his voice breaking. "Why would you do that?"

"He would have hurt you," she said quietly.

"So you decided to take him on yourself? You should have sent him my way! He was my problem, not yours!"

She looked away. "He would have hurt Simon too."

"Did you think we couldn't take care of ourselves?" David bent his head to look into her eyes, shaking her slightly. "He was _our _enemy! It wasn't your job to protect us!"

"Do you really expect that I would just send him after you? After Simon?" Gale said fiercely. "What was I supposed to do? Say 'hey Rafe, let me just get my address book and then you can go disembowel your brother – oh, and feel free to come back to kill me and Simon'?"

David let go of her, apparently stung by her sarcasm. He looked at her sadly. "Did _you _think that sending him to prison would be enough?" he said softly.

"No," Gale said. "That's why I had Kade."

"Why didn't you tell us?" His voice was rising, fuelled by his rage and grief.

"I had to protect the people I care about," Gale said defiantly. "And I would do it again in an instant."

David growled, turning away. "You're so fucking stubborn!"

Seemingly, his sorrow touched her because remorse immediately painted her face and she put a hand on his shoulder. David didn't turn around. "I know you're upset," she said gently. "I'm sorry. But I had to do this."

"No, you didn't," David argued. "You chose to do it."

"And you chose to lie."

They all turned to look at Simon who'd remained unusually quiet throughout the conversation - until now. He was watching Gale with narrowed, searching eyes and Klavier suddenly had the awful feeling that Simon had figured something out.

"What?" Gale asked and they all heard the catch in her voice. Klavier knew she was scared now – he could practically hear her heart racing. Her eyes were fixed on Simon's and she was in the grip of naked fear, fear that they all saw but only Klavier understood. The only thing that he'd kept from Simon was the truth of his paternity and only because he deserved to hear it from Gale but if he figured it out now, Klavier knew there would be hell to pay.

"What got you so scared when you found out Klavier had told us everything? Or should I say, when you _thought _he'd told us everything."

David turned steely eyes on Gale and Klavier, glancing between the two. "He's right," he said sourly. "What's going on?"

To Klavier's surprise, Gale rose an eyebrow at David, her fear nowhere to be seen. "Nosy. I see some things never change."

"I guess they don't," Simon said stiffly.

Klavier knew instantly that Simon was referring to Gale's habit of keeping secrets and he swore under his breath. However, when she spoke, there was no sign of apprehension at all; she was entirely calm. "I know you're angry at me, Simon."

"I'm not angry," Simon denied, taking a step forward. "I just don't understand why you've always operated with such secrecy. Why would you think you had to take on Rafael on your own? Why did you think you couldn't tell me what was going?"

Gale's response was simple, so simple, in fact, that Klavier saw the anger that it triggered in Simon. "I wasn't alone. I had Kade."

"You had _us_!" Simon snapped, gesturing wildly at himself. "We would have gathered an army to keep you safe! I would have died for you—"

"I didn't want you to die, Simon," Gale interrupted gently.

In a flash, Simon had moved across the room, grabbed her by the shoulders and was shaking her, hard. There was a feral look about him, like an animal that had been caged and tormented for so long that it no longer possessed the capacity for any emotion other than rage and grief.

"_I did die!" _he seethed. _"I died with you!"_

Gale didn't answer him – or maybe it was just that Klavier and David intervened before she could do so. The prosecutor shielded Gale while David yanked on Simon's shoulder. The Latino turned on him, breathing heavily, and he looked ready to attack David but then Gale spoke up and, like a spell beyond their understanding, the sound stopped them all in their tracks.

"Stop it, David," she said sternly. He looked at her in surprise but didn't argue, unhappily stepping away from Simon. "Move out of the way, Klavier." He did as she asked and Gale bridged the gap between herself and her lover.

Klavier saw it again – there it was, that inextricable bond, chaining them to each together. Every move she made was slow, tender and riddled with an otherworldly meaning: he knew that love resonated in her actions but it was almost too obvious an observation. There was something deeper, something infinitely mystical about how she looked at Simon. It was as if she had torn down the temple of his body and captured the quintessence of his soul, without the imperfections of his mortal emotions.

"Simon," she sighed.

An uncharacteristic shudder hit him at the sound. He looked at David to gauge his reaction: the man looked uncomfortable. David averted his eyes from Gale and Simon – Klavier didn't blame him. There was something so intensely intimate in the sight that he felt intrusive, as if he had invaded their privacy. When David turned his back on them though, Klavier supposed that jealousy played a greater part in the matter where he was concerned; David still loved Gale as much as he had a decade ago.

"Look at me, Simon," she whispered. "I love you more... than I can possibly say. Dying is nothing compared to what I wanted to… what I _want _to give to you. I left you, I died and I sacrificed everything I had to protect our love."

Klavier's heart turned over at the words because he understood exactly what she meant but Simon had no idea... no idea that when Gale spoke of their love, she spoke of a breathing, walking, talking representation - his daughter, Lana. Klavier tore his eyes away from the floor to watch them.

She laid a hand against Simon's cheek in comfort and the fire of madness ebbed from his face until all that was left was a mangled layer of misery and helplessness. "I _want _to tell you the truth," Gale went on. "It's not been easy to keep it from you. And you _will _know… but not today."

Klavier waited for Simon to protest, for his silence to combust into an inferno of demands and anguish but it never came. The fight seemed to have left him because the only thing that happened was the light in his eyes dimmed and he hung his head.

"Hey," she chided him softly, lifting his face. "I need you to be strong. All isn't lost."

"I've lost you," Simon said wretchedly. "I don't have anything to live for."

"That's not true," Gale said, shaking her head. Her fingers moved back the hair from his face. "You could never lose me. You have more to live for than you know." When Simon seemed unconvinced, Gale smiled gently. "Look in my eyes, Simon. Am I lying to you?"

"I don't know," he answered tentatively. "Are you?"

"Look at me," Gale repeated.

Simon stared at her. Klavier watched the countless moments drift around and past the two, as they stood, unmoving. He'd heard lovers didn't need words – they spoke with their hearts – and he was seeing the proof. Klavier had witnessed love's shrouded secrets, discovered only by these immortal lovers.

Inevitably, his mind turned to Ema. He knew, without a doubt, that she was his first – and she would be his last. He didn't know how it had happened and he didn't know when he'd fallen in love with her despite having been so sure not so long ago. Yet, as Klavier stood in the midst of an old love, he suddenly found his eyes opened to a great many things that he hadn't seen before.

The depth of his love for Ema was unfathomable – even to himself. There seemed to be no end to his spiral of emotions and they were so interlocked, so muddled that he could hardly pull at one without finding that the rest of his soul was bound to it. Where did his infinite love end and burning longing start? What colourful threads tied intense devotion to boundless loyalty? And which of those sparked that hot possessiveness, that need to protect her, to shield her at all costs? Klavier's heart was an intricately woven tapestry of ethereal passion.

And yet he'd thought of it as something new, something he'd discovered in recent times with the help of his friend… To him, it had been an unsullied start to a new life, peppered with fresh opportunities.

_But it is not…_ Klavier thought, his observant gaze still on Simon and Gale. _It does not feel new._

Because now that he thought about it, nothing about loving Ema felt unfamiliar. Her touch, her smile, her kiss… Wanting her, _needing_ her, felt as comfortable and old as the age of time. It was as if he had loved Ema forever, a lost lover aimlessly wandering the plains of life whose feelings had lain dormant until he was confronted with the one they belonged to.

Lightning rushed through him, electric and bringing new life to his soul with the realisation. His frown eased into contentment and he smiled at the two lovers, understanding, at last, what had triggered the revelation. They were the epitome of undying love and enduring devotion and it resonated deep within him because it was a reflection of his desired future, the expectant result of his efforts. He was only scratching at the surface of the gift life had bestowed upon him and he knew that he, too, would find the beauty enveloping Simon and Gale. He would find it with Ema.

"I believe in you."

Simon's voice snapped Klavier out of his reverie and he shook his head slightly, trying to clear it of his thoughts. Gale threw Simon a beautiful, sunny smile that Klavier had never before seen and a new strength swept into Simon's appearance. His back straightened and there was a new determination on his face that made Klavier smile triumphantly. He'd been right to bring Simon to her.

"Klavier," Gale said. "David."

David didn't answer and Klavier watched the guilt that crossed Gale's features as she stared at his back. Just as she was about to repeat his name, he turned and his face sported a business-like mask that fooled none of them.

"We need to talk," he said brusquely.

Gale paused before she answered. "We do." She stopped again. "How's Landon?" she enquired and Klavier's heart was warmed by her timid expression.

David rose an eyebrow sardonically. "Kind of an odd time to be asking about him, isn't it?"

Gale smiled feebly. "Nothing like a handful of niceties."

"Landon's fine."

"And Katrina?"

"She's still dyeing her hair every month, wasting conspicuous amounts of my money and littering the house with magazines. So unfortunately, she's fine too," David said in a bored tone.

Klavier and Gale laughed while Simon remained silent, his facial expression blank. "Do you have any others?" Gale asked curiously.

"Yeah." David crossed his arms and threw his head back so he was staring at Gale through hooded eyes. Klavier would have found the behaviour obnoxious but he knew that it hid a deeper emotion, one that David Rainsford was too proud to allow them to see. It hit the prosecutor that, for David, this must be hardest – he'd been confronted with the spirit of the woman he loved, murdered by his brother who still hunted him… and he'd been forced to accept that Simon had irrevocably taken his place.

"Excuse me," Simon interrupted curtly and they all looked at him. "Did I miss something?"

Suddenly, Gale smiled mischievously. "Yeah," she said, throwing David a sly glance. "There are ickle Davids running about."

Simon blinked uncomprehendingly at David, who was scowling. "He's got kids?"

"Ja," Klavier offered, infected by her teasing laughter. "Cute little—"

"If you met Landon, you wouldn't even _dream_ of starting a sentence that way," David said loudly.

"Why?" Gale giggled.

"He's a little bastard – in more way than one," David said with a frown. "He doesn't listen to a word I say."

"Sounds like someone else I know," Gale said, looking at David in amusement. "Like father, like son."

"You have a son?" Simon repeated, looking directly at David. "How old is he?"

Klavier saw the way they looked at each other – Simon, putting it all together and David contemplating whether or not to give him the last piece of the puzzle. "Twenty."

Shock registered almost immediately and Simon looked at Gale in panic, as if he expected her to break down but she was shaking her head. "It's okay. I know."

"Is that why he…?"

"I broke up with David," Gale admitted, glancing at the man in question. "I told him to give Landon – his son – a family. That's why he left."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Simon asked.

"Because I wanted to keep Landon safe," Gale answered. "Imagine what Rafael would do if he found out David had a family. They would all be in danger."

Simon looked annoyed and Klavier could almost hear the man's thoughts: _I could have kept it a secret_. Gale saw it too because she smiled at him sheepishly and he rolled his eyes at her in exasperation.

"I could have protected them, Gale," David said. "It wasn't your job to look after me or my family. Especially after—" He broke off, his voice uneven. Klavier saw him shake his head and swallow visibly. A deep silence fell around them again and Klavier knew it was time.

He was ready. _They_ were ready.

"Rafael Rainsford," he started in a quiet voice, drawing their attention to him, "faces execution in less than two weeks. His sentence is death by hanging." He looked at their faces in turn. "We have much to do until then."

"What?" David asked.

Klavier looked at Gale. "Your wish was to bring down Rafael's empire."

"That's impossible," David said at once.

"It will take more than just killing him to bring down his organisation," Simon agreed. "Someone else will just take his place. Someone just as bad."

"I know that," Klavier said calmly. "But we have all that we need in order to destroy it."

"Do we?" David said sceptically.

"We have you both," he said nodding at Simon and David. "You both know him, you understand his tactics and you have information about his history. Let me finish," he interrupted a protesting David. "We have something else that makes me confident we can do this." He looked at Gale who cocked her head at him inquisitively. "We have you, Fräulein. Kade and yourself gathered Intel on Rafael and his people, am I right?"

Gale nodded. "Yes," she said. "And there's Kade's journal. Did you get it?"

Klavier frowned, staring at her in confusion. "Sorry?"

"I told you about his journal," she said patiently.

Klavier's eyes widened as her words tugged at the corners of his memory. Just before she had faded away during the first channelling, she had spoken to him of it, instructed him to find it and he'd—

"Don't beat yourself up over it, kid," David said seeing Klavier's horrified expression. "After I found out about all this, I contacted a few people about Kade. I thought to get some of his stuff but we couldn't find any of it. There certainly wasn't a journal. My guess would be that Rafael had Kade murdered and then had anything incriminating destroyed."

"Damn it," Klavier muttered.

"Don't worry," Gale said and they all looked at her, surprised by her light-hearted tone. "I can ask him."

A stony silence met this remark and Klavier was sure that David and Simon were feeling the same uneasiness he was. They had, all three of them, come to accept the idea of spirits, channelling and the knowledge of a life after death but the idea of one spirit _talking _to another… It proved too much for Klavier's mind to process and he cleared his throat, ignoring the queasiness he felt.

"Is there anything you can tell us?" Klavier asked her. "About Rafael, I mean."

He thought he saw her mouth twitch. "I know a little from what Kade told me but it's hazy."

"That's all peachy and everything," David said drily, "but you need to be able to get to them first. How can you destroy something if you don't know what you're looking for or where to start?"

"That's what you're there for, you airhead," Simon retorted. "Don't you own some big-ass compa—"

"Can it, moron," David snarled, rounding on him.

"That's enough, guys," Gale said exasperatedly, giving Klavier a _yes-they're-always-like-this _look. "Simon's right though, David. With your connections and your access to Cyrun, we have a good chance at success."

David nodded slowly. "I suppose I could try that. The only problem I can see with it is that Rafael ran Cyrun for a long time so he knows how it works. I'm certain he'll have put something in place disabling access to any information regarding his activities through the company." He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "I _do_ still have some contacts from my time with Romano, though. Maybe I could call in some favours…"

Klavier saw Gale's mouth turn downwards and he wondered if she disliked the idea of David consorting with his old buddies.

"Do you want me—hey!" Simon exclaimed when she suddenly whacked him.

"What I want _you_ to do," Gale ordered with a glower, "is stay out of trouble."

Simon half-scowled, half-laughed. "Yes ma'am." Then, as if something occurred to him, he looked at Klavier. "Your friend Cavatin can help. I'm willing to bet the DA has a crap load of strings to pull."

"Deston?" Klavier said, bewildered by how Simon knew about Deston's transfer to the DA. "I could ask him, I suppose. He is—"

"Hasn't he told you he visited me?"

Klavier's eyebrows shot up. "He did?"

"Yeah." Unexpectedly, Simon smiled. "Ema Skye was with him. Ring any bells?"

"_What?"_

"They were tracking a crime ring that led straight to Rafael," Simon said in a voice filled with hilarity that Klavier barely noticed. "So they honoured me with a visit because you restricted access to him."

Suddenly, Deston's voice filled his head as he remembered that his friend _had _made reference to it but he'd been too caught up in his problem with Ema to realise: _"__Before I forget, I need your help on a case."_

"I suppose I will have to talk with him," Klavier said, frowning deeper.

"And Detective Skye, if you know what's good for you," Simon laughed.

Klavier eyed Simon's teasing expression and suddenly felt his stomach tighten. Did he know who Ema was to him…? _No_, he reassured himself. _There's no way. _And even if he did, why would he tease him about it? They weren't high-school kids.

Klavier looked at Gale but she was grinning at Simon and even David was smiling reluctantly. He cleared his throat. "I will most certainly discuss this with both of them. If he is tracking the same crime ring, his assistance will be valuable indeed."

"So will her fiery temper," Simon added. "I was half-scared for my life when she entered my cell."

Klavier's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he swept their faces and found the same infectious amusement there – except this time, it wasn't affecting him the right way. "Am I missing something?"

Simon looked ready to answer but suddenly Gale poked him and he nodded submissively, stifling his laughter.

Klavier was irritated. "If there is—"

"Ignore him," Gale said quickly. "He has his immature moments."

"Right."

"What did they want with you?" David said, turning to Simon.

"Mostly, they were asking me about Rafael and his chain of command," Simon replied although he looked at Gale and Klavier when he answered, obviously still unwilling to put aside his enmity with David.

"I remember Kade telling me something about that," Gale said to Klavier. "He said there were others who were just as bad as Rafael."

"They are," Simon agreed. "After all, they're his kids."

"His _what_?" Astonishment spilled into David's features and Klavier echoed him silently; _Rafael had children?_

"Yes," Gale said gravely, nodding. "Illegitimate by his design so that nobody can track them. He's trained them well."

David looked horrified. "He's turned them into...?"

Gale nodded. "He has a daughter and four sons. You'll have to be wary of all of them but the girl more than anyone else."

"Why?" Klavier asked, frowning.

"She's the most dangerous," Simon replied, his face taking on an unpleasant expression. When they looked at him enquiringly, he raised an eyebrow. "I met her when Rafael and I..."

Klavier's heart sank when he completed the sentence in his mind: _…planned to kidnap Gale._

"She's the next in command," Gale added quickly, sensing the change in atmosphere. She looked at Simon, putting a hand on his forearm and smiling tenderly before continuing. "When Rafael dies, she'll be the one controlling everything."

"To all intents and purposes, she already is."

"So if we break her," Klavier stated, "we break the organisation."

"No," Simon said shaking his head. "There are her brothers to consider. You'd have to get through them. First, they're like her bodyguards. Second, just because she was picked to lead, over them, doesn't mean they're not just as dangerous." Simon sighed. "And even if you manage to get through them all, dealing with her isn't going to be easy."

"You make her sound like Supergirl gone bad," David snorted. "She's just a girl."

"Idiot," Simon muttered. David's eyes flashed. "She was chosen by _Rafael_. That should be enough to understand that even if she is _just a girl_, she's just as much of a threat as he is. She's sadistic, heartless and driven by malice – just like her dad."

"That's just what we need," David said, his voice harsh. "More fucking Rafael psychos."

"I don't think she's heartless," Gale said quietly and they looked at her. "She's just been corrupted. Her mother deserted her when she was a teenager and she decided to find her father. When she did, Rafael took her in and after that, all he had to do was play on her anger. Kade thought that maybe her fear of losing her father as well is what caused her to turn into what she is now."

"Kade could have been wrong," David said shortly.

"I don't think he was," Gale said. "He _did_ gather a lot of information. If we only had that journal…"

"Can't you spy on them?" David asked suddenly and Klavier was surprised to see the uncomfortable look on his face. He understood its source straight away.

"Pardon?" Gale said, puzzled.

"You're…" David waved in her general direction and she looked down at herself, confused.

"What Herr Rainsford means is, as you are spirit, you could spy on this woman," Klavier said stiffly, his mouth turned into a downward pout – he wasn't impressed by David's request.

"Don't worry, Klavier. He doesn't mean it in a bad way." Gale laughed, seeing Klavier's expression. "There's nothing privileged about death, David. It doesn't automatically grant you omniscience."

"Sorry," David mumbled.

"Do you know her name?" Klavier asked, glancing back and forth between Simon and Gale.

"Irina Ethans."

"Dalena Than."

Klavier's lips pressed together in an irritated line when Simon and Gale answered simultaneously. "We seem to have a problem," he said.

"Neither is her real name," Simon supplied. "Rafael gives them all fake identities to preserve secrecy."

Klavier nodded slowly, churning the information in his mind. He crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling, thinking things through. It was obvious that this was going to be a difficult case but there was no doubt in his mind that he would crack it. After all, he had the might of the law on his side, Gale and Simon's knowledge, David's company and Deston's influence with the DA. He would have to speak with his friend, find out what he knew. He assumed that Deston had been following Rafael's crime ring all along.

And if that was the case, did that mean Rafael was behind Ema's attacks? Cold fury rose in him at the thought. If Rafael had _dared_…

"Klavier?"

He looked at Gale who was surveying him anxiously and he waved a hand to imply he was fine. Clearing his throat, he pushed aside the wrath that had overtaken him, storing it away. "I will speak with Deston about this. David," he said turning to the man. "You should begin to gather all the data that you can. I am sure I do not need to tell you to keep this secret. I would like to know this woman's real name and what her background is."

David looked to Gale. "Do you know her mom's name?"

Gale shook her head slowly, glancing at Simon. "No."

"Never mind."

"Gale, you must do as you see fit," Klavier said edgily, trying not to think about her supernatural conversation with Kade. "I will summon you on the day of Rafael's execution."

She frowned. "Why?"

"I wish for you to be present for it," Klavier said simply. "And on that note, David, I think it's probably best that you do not attempt anything until _after_ the execution."

"Why?"

He paused, looking at them all, this time with a smile. "Because I would like to punish Rafael."

"What are you talking about?" Simon said.

A satisfied smile formed on Klavier's lips as he realised that he could at last put his plan into motion. He unwound his arms and hitched his thumb on his belt, suddenly feeling freer than he had in a long while. Anticipation was running through him like adrenalin and he smirked. Was this what revenge felt like?

"We all agree that the death penalty means nothing to him. He will climb that scaffold with a happy smile because he thinks he has won." They nodded, unable to deny the truth of his statement. He smiled at them widely. "What if I was to tell you that I had found a way to wipe that smirk off his face once and for all?"

There was a long stretch of silence in which David frowned, clearly wondering what on earth Klavier could do to turn the tables on Rafael, Simon cocked his head, intrigued by Klavier's claim, and Gale simply smiled, as if she already knew.

"You do realise what you're saying, don't you?" David said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and laughing a little incredulously. "Have you _met_ my brother?"

"I have," Klavier confirmed. "That is why I know what to do."

Simon's eyes glittered darkly. "Let's bring that bastard down."


	22. A Traitorous Correspondence

A Traitorous Correspondence

"Aw, c'mon Em! It's not that big a deal!" Deston said, watching with amusement as Ema puffed her cheeks angrily. "He won't say anything!"

"He won't say anything?" Ema echoed incredulously. "It's _Daryan_!"

"He won't remember," Deston reassured her, taking her by the hand and pulling her down the prison hallway. "Come on."

Ema pulled against him. "No," she repeated stubbornly. When Deston stared at her in exasperation, she threw a Snackoo at him which he promptly dodged.

"You know, I've been meaning to thank you," Deston said casually, dropping into a crouch and picking it up off the floor. "Dodging these little suckers has really—" (he dodged another one aimed for his head) "—improved my reflexes."

"How dare you desecrate them like that?" Ema demanded furiously although she couldn't help the smile that spread on her lips.

Deston grinned fiendishly, letting it drop next to the other one. She watched in horror as he stood up, lifted one heavily booted foot and brought it crashing down on the Snackoos. Shock rippled through her, followed almost immediately by an amusing realisation that she really was insane if the crumbling of a snack induced such a reaction from her. Arms akimbo, she turned a pretend-scowl on Deston who was watching her with twinkling eyes.

"How. Dare. You." Ema marched up to Deston and glared up into his face. "What kind of a Snackooer would do such a thing?"

"One who hates them," Deston said, looking down into her face and smiling cheekily. Ema's eyes widened and she grabbed a bunch of his jacket, pulling him closer, trying not to laugh.

"What?" she hissed.

"I hate the damn things, ma'am!" Deston said sombrely. "I only pretended to like them so that I could make your lover jealous and fina—OW!" he exclaimed when Ema lightly twisted his ear. "Sorry, sorry, I meant _Klavier, _the Fop-King!"

Ema's laughter bubbled to the surface and she let him go, readjusting her bag on her shoulder. She crossed her arms and stared at him with an exasperated sigh as he made a show of massaging his ear. "Are you quite done?"

"No," he said sadly. "Mean lady hurt ear. Me scared—no, no, just joking!" he added hastily when Ema approached him again. "Yeesh. Cut a guy some slack, would ya?"

Ema cocked her head at Deston and laughed again. When he winked at her, she grinned. No doubt he thought she'd lost her mind but Ema didn't care – today, everything inside her was smiling and laughing. She was so full of elation and a thousand other emotions that she could barely contain them.

The wonderful breakfast Klavier had prepared for her had touched her deeply and left her speechless but the note he'd left atop her juice, now stowed away inside her bag, had moved her the most. Her fingers slid into her satchel, around the smooth piece of paper and she smiled at the words she knew he'd scrawled there: _may this sweeten your morning as you have my life._

She felt light, lighter than she had in a long time – in fact, the last time she'd felt this way was after Lana's trial and that had been cut short when she'd realised she would have to move to Europe. Her joy had been diminished somewhat and she'd found it difficult to keep a bright smile on her face.

Now, however, nothing could dampen her spirits. Even though she was standing in Central Prison, her mood was bright. She was walking on air, relief rushing through her like cool milk and anticipation tingling her skin. There was no guarantee of anything – she had no idea how long her relief would last nor whether her expectation would be met – but it didn't matter. Ema was in love with a man who'd promised her everything with just a few words, a man she trusted more than she had ever allowed herself to trust anyone. Klavier had asked _her_ for a chance and it wasn't the fact itself that caused her so much joy. It was the sheer honesty she'd seen in his eyes. There had been nothing but a smouldering sincerity in his gaze and it had warmed her, warmed her so much that she could have walked through a blizzard of snow and she would have barely noticed.

Deston whistled for her attention but just as she made to answer, a guard walked past them, ushering a prisoner along who stared at them with beady eyes. Ema stared back nonchalantly, unaffected.

"Shall we proceed?" she said to Deston who nodded, gesturing for her to go first.

"Fop," she muttered as she walked past him and smiled when he chuckled.

Ema continued on down the hall but, for the third time since last night, her mind had drifted to the man behind her: Deston was the type of friend she had never imagined she would find. There was something so heartfelt about everything he said and did that it was easy to him for granted. She'd begun to notice little things about him that she hadn't before.

It had started yesterday. When they visited Lowes, and she'd insulted him by insinuating he was helping Rainsford, Deston hadn't hesitated in shielding her and stepping in the path of a potential attack though she'd never expected it of him. Then, that same night, she had argued with him, _thrown _things at him and his response had been to reason with her and defend her – _again – _when Klavier had addressed her coldly.

Too distressed at the time and preoccupied by Klavier's unexpected behaviour, it had rested at the back of her mind but afterward, when Klavier had left her bedroom, she'd spent the night thinking. Just thinking.

Klavier's promises had churned themselves over and over, hitting her all over the place from different angles, as she wondered if she'd done the right thing in accepting his proposal, if she had really seen honesty or just what she'd wanted to see… Until she realised that, even if she couldn't trust her judgement, she could trust Deston's. After all, hadn't he shown his loyalty as a friend? He'd saved her life, protected her and pushed her to admit to her feelings for the fop. He knew Klavier. If _Deston_ was encouraging her to pursue a relationship with Klavier, she could, couldn't she?

And it was when she was trusting Deston's judgement over hers that her eyes had widened, her hand had covered her gaping mouth and she'd sat up in bed with a jolt. When had Deston become such an intimate friend? How had the boundary between acquaintance and confidant turned so fuzzy? The answer had come to her in a series of quick flashbacks: there were countless times that Deston had taken care of her emotional and physical well-being, all the while demanding nothing from her. How could she have not noticed what – who – he was to her? She'd been granted with the gift of a special friendship so how could she not have noticed it before?

When she'd arrived at his office and seen him picking up his keys, telling her he was sorry that she had to come all the way up, she'd found that she didn't mind. This morning, she'd seen him in a different light. For once, she'd smiled at him in greeting and told him it was okay. When he led her out again and everyone stared, she wasn't annoyed. _Let them think what they will, _Ema had thought uncharacteristically, ignoring them. _Deston is my friend – my good friend – and that's all that matters. _

"You have a spring in your step, Detective Skye. Did you have a good night?"

Of course, Deston was still a Gavinner which meant his ability to annoy was just as impressive as Klavier's. "Foppiners," she threw at him over her shoulder.

"What was that?" Deston said, jogging closer to her.

She looked at him as he fell into step beside her. "Well, Gavinners seems like such a biased and unfair name for your band. I mean, you're not all surnamed Gavin. You _are_ all fops, however. So Foppiners sounds good to me."

Deston laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "How would you know if we're all fops?"

Ema snorted. "Daryan's an ass. Klavier should change his surname from Gavin to Fop. Raoul is just… _obnoxiously_ foppish. And _you_," she emphasised, turning to look at him with narrowed eyes, trying to ignore the merriment in his face. "Your middle name is fop."

"I see. And Seren?"

Ema shrugged Deston's arm off and stopped to look left and right at a junction. "I've only spoken to him once but he's probably just as bad as the rest of you." Ema shot Deston an irate look when he chortled. She turned left, not bothering to wait for Deston. "I don't know why—" She was cut off as his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her in another direction.

"This way, Em," he said cheerfully.

Ema slapped him away. "Behave yourself," she chided.

"I can't help myself," Deston said, winking at her. "You're too sexy."

Her eyes widened and she groaned over his laughter, holding her face in her hands as déjà vu hit her. "Oh my God," she grumbled. "You're more like Klavier than I realised!"

"I'm just messing around with you – although you _are_ sexy." Deston smirked when Ema blushed. "You've been exceedingly jolly today. I'm just taking advantage of the opportunity."

"Whatever," Ema said, waving him off. "I'm being myself."

"No you're not," Deston argued. "If I touched you yesterday, I bet I'd lose some fingers."

"Where the hell is Daryan's cell?" Ema said loudly, pretending she hadn't heard him. "Why is it taking so long to reach it?"

"Changing the subject, are we?" Deston teased.

Ema didn't answer – because that's exactly what she was doing. She had come to accept that Deston was one of best friends but she wasn't going to tell him that she kept thinking of Klavier at the back of her mind and that, every so often, his twinkling blue eyes flashed before her tantalisingly. She was love-struck and her feelings were in a muddle but she wasn't so far gone that she would pour her foolish heart out to Deston.

Predictably, her thoughts turned to Klavier fully and her meeting with him in the morning. Anxiously, she remembered how upset he'd been and she wondered if the Gale Rainsford case was the cause. Part of her had wanted to tell him about the link between their investigations but had thought better of it, knowing it wasn't her place to discuss it with him. She'd voiced her concern to Deston who'd told her he would talk to Klavier about it as soon as possible.

An unspeakable need filled her at the sight of his dejected expression; she wanted to help Klavier and she was certain that his vagueness had been due to the need for confidentiality in his work. Though clueless as to how she could aid in his investigation, there was a hope that if he knew of the connection between their cases, he would open up to her more. At least, she hoped he would.

_He's going to need you. You in particular. Be his friend, Ema._

A memory claimed her and she couldn't help but smile at what Phoenix had said to her the day before Daryan's trial. She'd thought it impossible, something that was beyond her capacity to do. When she'd tried, she'd been rejected by Klavier and she'd sulked. Two weeks she'd spent seething over the almost-kiss and Klavier's evasive tactics before bursting into his office to drop off some files… and coming face to face with Cupid-Deston.

She looked at him again as they turned around a corner and he called a guard over, talking to him in low tones. What would have happened if Deston hadn't been in the office that day? Would she and Klavier be where they were today? Or would they still be indifferent co-workers, their conversations filled with nothing but flirtatious remarks (on his part, of course) and Snackoo pelting?

"This way, Em," Deston said, after the guard nodded and marched off. He motioned for her to follow him.

"Deston," Ema said, a question occurring to her. "Do you seriously not like Snackoos?"

Deston chuckled. "I seriously don't."

"Why did you pretend to?" Ema asked curiously.

"I wanted to piss K off," Deston said with a cheeky smile. "He'd told me about his Snackoo-wielding Fräulein so I thought that was a good place to start. Get in with the good detective via Snackoo-fetish and take her out for a meal. It worked well, even if I do say so myself."

"It did not!"

"Yes it did."

"No it did not!"

"It did," Deston insisted. "You didn't see the jealous look on K's face when we headed out for breakfast."

"I didn't see it because it wasn't there," Ema said stubbornly.

"Oh yeah? Well, okay then." She glanced at him, surprised by his surrender, but rolled her eyes when she saw the way he was looking at her. "Why did he say he never wanted to see me again?"

Ema swatted at Deston, laughing disbelievingly, taken aback by his blatant lie. "He did not say that! I would have remembered!"

"Only if you knew what he was saying," Deston said, shaking his head. "He said it in German."

Ema looked away from Deston's heavy stare, pleasure swirling around in her chest. There was something in the knowledge that Klavier had felt something, even then, that delighted her – because she'd certainly felt something for him. Although refusing to admit it to herself at first, there was no denying the fact that if that phone call hadn't interrupted them, she would have kissed Klavier. And when he'd answered it, ignoring her for the next two weeks, she'd been stung, spending all of her time trying not to think about him. If she'd really been indifferent to him, she wouldn't have cared what he did.

As if he'd read her mind, Deston spoke up, jolting her out of her thoughts; "He told me that he almost kissed you. Before you and I met."

Ema felt a swooping sensation in her stomach at the words and every part of her body was tingling, anxiousness swimming under her skin. She swallowed.

"Why?" she asked softly.

"He was confused," Deston explained gently. "Daryan's trial affected him really badly, Em. When you turned up at his office… Well, I bet you could tell he was a wreck."

Ema nodded, grimacing at the memory. "He trashed his office."

"You did something he wasn't expecting – you offered him your help. And then he almost kissed you." Ema was frowning in confusion and Deston paused, as if to think of the best way to explain. "The thing you don't know, Ema, is that Klavier's had feelings for you for far longer than you realise. He would talk about you at random times."

Her cheeks flared up again and she ducked her head, curbing her wish to know what Klavier said about her.

"When you walked out of his office, he worried that he'd offended you or angered you. He wanted to talk to you about what had almost happened but I guess he didn't know how to approach you or what to say."

"I don't understand," Ema said, puzzled.

"You've got to see it from his point of view, Em," Deston said as they stopped before a door and she looked at him quizzically. He turned to her with a gentle smile. "He wanted to kiss you for the sake of kissing you. Not to make himself feel better because his best friend had betrayed him. I think he just felt like he'd dishonoured you. Two weeks went by and he wasn't getting off his ass so I decided it was time to step in."

Ema didn't see the sheepish smile Deston directed at her. She was in the past, stuck in memories where the cloud of doubt had been blown away by this revelation. Something inside of her was swelling, filling her up and bursting to come out.

_All that time_, she thought in amazement. _All that time, I thought Klavier was avoiding me because he regretted what he'd done and the truth…_

"Em?" Deston was scrutinising her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied but her voice came out breathy. When he didn't look convinced, she cleared her throat. "I'm fine."

"Okay," Deston said, opening the door in front of them. "Let's go."

Ema followed him inside, trying not to think about what she'd just been told. The last thing she wanted was for Daryan to start picking on her for being absent-minded.

"Seren," Deston said in a surprised voice and Ema followed his gaze to find the Gavinner standing just outside Daryan's cell. "Raoul told me you were going out of state today."

"I am," said Seren. "I was just about to leave." His kind eyes fell on Ema and he smiled, inclining his head. "Good to see you again, Detective Skye."

"Skye's here?" Daryan drawled and Ema inhaled deeply before stepping around Deston. She took a discreet breath and smiled at Seren.

"You too," she said politely.

"Ema was just reserving her opinion on you, Seren," Deston said and Ema promptly thumped him.

Seren laughed. "I hope you won't align me with these freaks, Ema."

She tilted her head, turning one end of her mouth up in contemplation. "Well, normally calling these two—" she gestured towards Daryan and Deston "—freaks, would have earned you a few points but Deston said something like that too and turned out to be a fop himself." She crossed her arms. "Kind of lost my faith there, you see."

"Of course _he's_ a fop," Seren said, pointing at Deston. "He's an attention-seeker. Me, I like to stay at the back of the group."

Daryan snorted. "You don't have a choice, chameleon-boy."

"Do you see what I mean?" Seren said with a pout.

"Alright," Deston laughed. "Get outta here. You've got a jet to charter."

Ema's stomach jumped. _I couldn't even imagine saying that, _she thought sourly. Intimidation tightened its hold on her when she remembered that she was standing in a room full of rock-stars. Never mind that one of them was behind bars. They earned more money than she would make in a life-time. Her chin jutted out and pouting, she examined Seren sideways while trying to hold back the word dying to escape her.

Deston saw her expression. "Uh-oh. I think she's about to opinionate."

"That's not even a word," Seren laughed. "And she looks fine to me. Just admit it, you're jealous 'cause she doesn't—"

"Fop."

Seren's sentence remained unfinished as Deston roared with laughter and Daryan sniggered. Ema raised an eyebrow at Seren who threw his arms up, admitting defeat. "Fine! Fine. Be that way," he laughed, walking towards the door where he stopped and turned mischievous eyes on her. "But I might have to tell Klavier you listen to Guilty Love for about half an hour in your car every morning."

Ema's mouth dropped. "That's not true!" she lied.

Well, it _wasn't_, she argued with herself. Not really. It wasn't like she listened to it because she _liked _it! It was when she was drinking her coffee in an attempt to wake up that she put it on, because she knew all that noise was bound to annoy her sufficiently enough for her brain to kick into gear.

"Yes it is," Seren said with a laugh, halfway out of the door. "I've seen you do it at least three times!"

"Run!" Deston laughed as Ema started fumbling around in her bag for her Snackoos. Seren, taking this advice to heart, waved and in a voice choked with laughter, said "Bye!" before disappearing.

Breathing fire and trying to recover her ability to speak, she turned to Deston who was staring at her expectantly.

"It's not true!" she protested.

"Uh huh." Deston smirked.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, babe," Daryan intoned from the back of the cell. He was leaning against a wall, bathed in the shadows, one ankle over the other. "It was a hit after all."

Ema growled, turning away from both of them and resisting the urge to stomp her foot. Her cheeks blazed with fire and she took another deep breath, trying to ignore the sniggering behind her. "It's not funny, fop-face!" she said loudly without turning around.

"Okay, okay," Deston said in a soothing voice. "No more teasing. We're going to talk business."

"Speak for yourself," Daryan scoffed. "I've been waiting for the chance to talk to her about—"

"Daryan," Deston warned. Ema spun around and glared at both of them, her eyes flickering between Deston's guilty look and Daryan's teasing one.

"Why you getting all bent outta shape?" Daryan said, looking at Ema through the black hair falling into his eyes. "I'm just buzzin' off the assassination plot you overheard. You know," Daryan added, smirking at her, "the one with me and Deston plotting to kill Klavier."

Ema turned an accusing glare on her friend. "So much for 'he won't say anything'! Did you _have_ to tell him?"

"Jokes are hard to come by in this hell-hole," Daryan said. "You gonna take that away from me too, Skye?"

Ema was about to reply but was distracted when he pushed himself away and moved closer to the bars of the cell. As he stepped into the light, she saw the changes in his appearance – he was noticeably gaunter, dark circles beneath his glittering eyes and his hair was shorter, but still long enough to cascade over his shoulders. Even in this state, though, Ema thought he looked handsome – darkly handsome.

The second thought that crossed her mind was _this is Tessa's husband. _She wasn't seeing Daryan the same way as she had when he'd been brought here; she was seeing him through Tessa's eyes. The dark cicles under his hollow eyes told her of the sleepless nights he'd spent. His indifference to life was evident in the badly managed hair.

"See something you like, Detective?"

For the first time in her life she was quick to reply, not a fluster in sight; "Get a grip on reality, Crescend."

Deston chuckled. "I think our Ema has become accustomed to such remarks."

"Gavin throwing lines at you is he?" Daryan said, surveying Ema. She did nothing but cross her arms and stare back at him confidently. "Well, well, the little kitty has grown into a cat."

She couldn't help but agree. Her emotions were switching from one extreme to the other and she was acting spontaneously, shocking even herself. Never, in all her years, had she imagined she would behave this way. It had been practically a scientific impossibility in her mind and all over a _guy _– Klavier.

Klavier. Klavier. _Klavier_.

Rock-star extraordinaire, prosecuting genius and glimmerous fop of great renown (in her world anyway). Klavier Gavin, with his mischievous blue eyes, his perfectly styled platinum blond hair, his ostentatious rock clothes and glimmerous jewellery… _That_ Klavier Gavin had torn down her walls and breached her defences, plundering depths even she hadn't been aware existed. He had done exactly what he said he would do: he'd torn her roots and she was falling… falling…

How had she resisted him for so long? How could she have fooled herself into thinking she wanted nothing to do with him? That she could have continued to love him from afar?

_Calm down, Ema, _the voice inside cautioned her. _Take it easy._

How?

_It's been less than 24 hours since you saw him and you're already losing your head?_

Ema barely heard it – her mind had already rewound to the kiss they'd shared. Her chest tightened, light-headedness washing over her when she remembered the way he'd held her, looked at her… the memory of his seductive voice was so vivid that he might have been standing at her shoulder right now, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear. How had she managed to remain composed in his presence if just the thought of him was enveloping her in waves of dizzying sensations? Her cheeks heated when she remembered the kisses she'd initiated, taken aback by her own forwardness but not regretting any of it.

_You shouldn't regret it. Just calm down._

I am calm.

"Ema?"

"Yeah?" was her swift reply as she turned to Deston who was smiling at her.

"You okay?"

"Yup," she answered as nonchalantly as she could, looking away from him but then her eyes landed on Daryan who was watching her knowingly.

"Course she's fine," Daryan snickered. "Look at the way she's—"

"We're here to ask for your help," Ema interrupted loudly, knowing where his comment was going.

A look of mock-horror flashed across his face and Ema narrowed her eyes at him. "You wanna kill loverboy? Talk about a femme fatale for hire…"

"Oh pipe down, would you?" Ema scowled.

"Yeah, don't go dropping my song in your stupid jokes, Crescend," Deston said.

Ema frowned. "Dare I ask…?"

"Assassin Of My Heart," Deston explained, rolling his eyes at Daryan. "Femme fatale for hire is a line from my song. He's always stealing lyrics 'cause he's pissed I wouldn't let him have a verse."

"Whatever, Denson," Daryan drawled.

"Denson?" Ema echoed.

"Daryan's nickname for me," Deston explained throwing his friend an annoyed look. "Denson stands for 'dense person'. Very original."

"Right. Can we get on with this?" Ema said, exasperated.

Daryan's eyes moved back and forth between them as Deston nodded, seemingly thinking something over. "What's suddenly got your goat, Cavatin?"

"A lot of things," Deston said, crossing his arms and frowning.

Daryan leaned against the bars of the cell and fixed his attention on Deston, his eyes turning serious. "Any luck with the investigation?"

"Yeah… led me to one name. Rafael Rainsford." Deston looked at his friend. "Know him?"

"Huh…" Daryan was looking at the wall, a thoughtful look on his face. "Can't say I'm surprised to hear he's involved."

"So you do know him?"

"Everyone knows him. Dude's a freakin' nightmare." Daryan paused. "Haven't seen him in a few days. Heard he's locked away in the naughty corner."

Deston nodded. "Klavier had him put in solitary."

"Why?"

"Haven't had a chance to ask him myself," Deston said. "Ema said that he's investigating something to do with the murder that landed Rainsford here."

"Looks like boy-wonder's ahead of ya," Daryan drawled, shifting his pose against the bars and looking at them both. "I've seen enough of the guy to know he ain't the type to take orders. He involved with the crime ring?"

"I think it's safe to assume that he's the leader."

"That clears up a lot of questions." At Deston's questioning look, Daryan explained: "He's a clever bastard. Very clever." A thoughtful look crossed his features. "I was wondering how they caught the guy."

"We talked to an inmate who knows him," Deston said. "He reckons Rafael's only here because he's after something."

"Implying he could break out whenever he wants," Daryan said, nodding. "That don't surprise me either."

"Do you know anything about him?"

"He's good at killing," Daryan said unnecessarily. Ema shivered at the casual way he said that and he shot her a brief glance before continuing. "Someone pisses him off and they tend to disappear not too soon after."

Deston frowned. "Didn't the guards do anything about him?"

"Yeah. They got him fags and some nice fluffy cushions." He cocked his head back and fixed Deston with a deliberate look. "Like they do for Gavin."

Deston looked at him sharply. "You learn any more about him?"

"Not much. He's gettin' the same privileged treatment," Daryan said, adjusting his position against the bars again. "And, unless he's gettin' some stray fan mail meant for Klavier, he's also receiving letters."

Deston's eyes narrowed. "Letters?"

"Yeah. That's what I thought too. So I did a little digging around." Ema was about to ask how he'd managed to do that before realising that Daryan was probably just as influential as Gavin, if not more. "He's been writing to someone in CJIS."

"_What?" _Deston's face was a mixture of outrage and shock and Ema remembered that he worked for the division. "Do you know who?"

Daryan shook the hair out of his eyes. "What do you take me for? Course I know. The name was Tray Tauraize," he said distastefully.

"Tray?" Deston mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "What the hell is she doing, writing to Kristoph?"

"You know her?"

Deston didn't answer straight away and Ema watched him as he stood frozen, his fingers still curled in his hair and a frown on his face. The only thing about him that was moving were his eyes as they darted back and forth and she could see him hard at work, turning the information over in his mind.

Daryan turned to Ema with a roll of his eyes. "He's having an epiphany."

"I think he needs silence," Ema said curtly.

"Yaow!" Daryan said with a laugh. "You're a live one!"

"You don't say!" she said sarcastically.

"How's Tess?"

The question was so sudden, the change in his tone so unfamiliar, it didn't register at first. She blinked at him in confusion, trying to reconcile it all with the cocky Daryan of a few moments ago. When the image of his serious expression finally settled in her brain and she processed the hesitancy and blatant fear behind the question, all of her misconceptions about him disappeared. In one short moment, everything she'd learnt about him and her knowledge of his crime melted away until there was nothing left except the single most incredible fact that he was Tessa's husband.

It wasn't that they didn't suit. Despite his dark looks and Tessa's obvious fairness, it was as though they balanced one another out… but there was something so unreal about Daryan ever having the ability to commit to one woman that she found it difficult to get past it. Everything that Ema had seen in him pointed to one thing: incapacity for love.

Yet here he was.

"She's good," Ema murmured, lying knowingly. "I saw her a few days ago. She was doing better."

The way Daryan pierced her with his eyes made it obvious that he didn't believe her at all but didn't call her on it. Instead, he nodded, clearing his throat, and looked at Deston. Ema watched him breathe in slowly and struggle to wipe his face of the abject expression.

"You gonna snap outta your stupor or what?" Daryan demanded and she noted the strain in his voice. "I'm gettin' old here." A reluctant smile touched her lips when he tugged at the white ends of his hair.

"Sorry," Deston said, looking up at them. "I was lost in my thoughts."

"No shit." Daryan rolled his eyes again. "Did you bring any diamonds for us on the way back from that dark, dark place?"

"Yeah," Deston answered, obviously too distracted to care about the insult being thrown his way. "Tray's part of a team that runs the CHS."

"The what?" Ema asked, peeved that she was having to interrupt with questions that made her look stupid.

"Criminal History System," Daryan provided before turning back to his friend. "What's Kristoph want with all that?"

"Zak Enigmar? I don't know."

"Enigmar's dead," Daryan said bluntly.

"I know but why are they still writing to each other?" Deston asked.

"What," Daryan said straightening to his feet. "You think they're exchanging 'thank you, nice working with you' letters?"

"Dammit!" Deston snapped. "What the hell is Tray playing at?"

"You're gonna have to find out," Daryan said. "And I'll keep an eye on Gavin. At least, I'll try to. Bastard's as slippery as an eel."

"Wait a minute," Ema interrupted, looking up at Deston. "This friend of yours is in CHS?" He nodded. "Then isn't it possible that Krisopth's checking out someone related to the Enigmar case? Their background?"

"Definitely sounds like it," Daryan agreed. "The question is, who?"

Ema was thinking, her mind's eye running over the profiles of everyone that had been involved in some way with the case 7 years ago. Prior to the trial, there had been no convictions in their files – Ema had checked all of that after finding out about Phoenix's disbarment.

"Wasn't there some sort of blackmail in the letters Magnifi Gramarye left Zak and Valant?" Ema asked.

"Yeah…" Deston spoke slowly. "But nobody found out what it was. I checked," he added, seeing Ema's questioning look. "Their records are as clean as can be."

"Oh."

"What if Gavin was trying to have something in his past erased?" Daryan suggested.

Ema didn't hear Deston's reply; a tiny jolt of lightning had hit her when the projector in her mind stopped at another face, one everyone tended to forget because of his unexpected appearance.

"Misham," she blurted out, interrupted Deston. They look at her simultaneously. "Drew Misham."

"Drew Misham?" Daryan echoed. "Isn't that the forger who—?"

"The forger," Deston confirmed, nodding, his unfocused eyes on Ema. "The man who prepared the forgery for the client he never saw…"

"_Claims_ he never saw," Daryan said snidely.

"It could be him, couldn't it?" Ema said, looking between them both.

"Yeah."

"You do know what this means, don't you?" Deston said carefully. "If we can prove some sort of a link between Misham and Kristoph…"

"…it'll mean we've found proof," Ema finished.

"Talk to your friend at the division," Daryan instructed Deston. "I'm gonna try and find out more about this Misham guy. There's gotta be somebody in here who's had dealings with him."

Deston's jaw clenched. "Yeah. Tray Tauraize and I are going to have a nice long conversation."

Ema felt a mixture of disgust and pity for the woman – the former, for helping Kristoph and the latter…

Well, Deston's look of fury was enough of a reason why.


	23. In Each Other's Shadow

In Each Other's Shadow

'.'

Love thy blood more than life,

Summon it hither in time of strife,

Adore thy saviour without pause,

Forgetting not thy chosen laws.

.'.

Klavier was sat at the farthest table in the precinct cafeteria; a soda can resting in one hand and a book spread open by the other. His eyes were fixed intently on the crisp white pages, running back and forth across them slowly. The concentration in his face was such that nobody else dared approach him, knowing that his choice to isolate himself by the window was a sign that he was not to be disturbed. All that passed him glanced curiously at the title of the book, some of them recognising it: _Voices On The Air_ by Gale Sanders.

Klavier had brought the book soon after the channelling. It was when he'd been absent-mindedly flicking through her journal that he'd been reminded she was a writer. Why had he not bothered to buy one of her books? He doubted that there would be anything of use to his investigation in them – something told him Gale was far too careful to plaster any clues in published works. Still, his interest had been piqued purely out of his affection for her. He wanted to know more about her and what better way was there to get inside her mind than by reading the words she herself had written?

_Voices On The Air _had attracted his attention almost immediately; on the cover was a single, blood-splattered letter, screaming for attention and though he didn't understand why it had intrigued him, it had been enough. Klavier had picked it up and flipped it open to the first page, impatient to see the contents of her words – and they had gripped him. Within minutes, he'd paid and left, making his way back to the precinct.

Letting go of his drink, he ran his fingers over the page, pulling it wider apart. A sigh escaped him, somewhat exasperated at himself for his inability to understand the poem he'd been reading and re-reading for the past twenty minutes. There were parts of it he understood fine. Betrayal, love, anger and pride – it was all there. Klavier just couldn't understand the context.

He glanced around distractedly before turning back to the book, his lips moving around the ambiguous words but to no avail – the meaning eluded him. So, knowing there was no use in continuing to read what he couldn't comprehend, he gave up and moved on to the next page. He had expected an author's note, a dedication but it moved straight to the prologue:

_Dear AJ,_

_It's been half a year since we last spoke but it feels like it's been forever. Your memory, the essence of who you were has evaporated into ghostly mist that drifts forward every so often to choke me, to blind me, to suffocate me. It's almost as if you weren't real, like you weren't a living, breathing, talking man... But a trial, a test, a need... And I wonder to myself, fleetingly, if you weren't just a figment of my imagination. Then I realise that you can't be because the only time a mind gives up on a dream is when it no longer needs it._

_But I still need you._

_I take each day as it comes and some days I even fool myself into thinking that I forgot you. It's a lie though. The truth is that I'm so accustomed to thinking about you that it's a habit – I barely notice. I'll be having a sandwich and I wonder, would AJ have liked this? Or I watch a TV show and I ask myself what your opinion would have been on it. Little things, AJ. Just little things and questions that kill me inside every day, like a disease you know is there but you can't feel it eat away at you, you don't know what the damage is until it's too late. That's what your memory is like - a disease, an affliction for which I have no cure._

_And it's not like I can do anything about it, is there? I'm stuck with trying to convince myself that you were right in leaving me, that you didn't love me, that we're better off apart and you can be happier with her… I have to chastise my mind for thinking about you, like one does a misbehaving child who refuses to let anyone else play with its toy. But, just like an infant, it refuses to listen and continues to do as it pleases, forcing me to confront memories and projected visions of you when I wake up every morning, when I fall asleep every night. _

_You've left me with an ache so vast and throbbing that I don't know where it is, how to root it out or how to banish it. Like a relentless poison, it sweeps through my body and makes me ill until all I'm able to do is lie here and think of you, talk to you and wish you were holding me in your arms, telling me you love me and you can't live without me…_

_It's at that point that I remember that all of that is foolishness and it's never going to happen. It's around that time that that small voice of common sense kicks in and everything that I wanted to write in this letter vanishes into the ether of exhaustion. I feel defeated again. And, just as I have with all the other letters, I'm going to fold this up and store it away and make believe I'm going to give it to you someday._

_And like every other day, I'm going to plaster a smile on my face, ready to face the world and spend another day pretending I don't think about you._

The words needled him. Klavier exhaled heavily, rubbing his eyes and trying to ignore the sadness that overwhelmed him. Though the novel was fiction, he could feel Gale's own pain over the loss of David flowing out of the words and into him, weighing him down. Even though he knew that Gale's future with Simon had been deeper and more fulfilling, he couldn't overlook the obvious distress that she had endured as a result of her sacrifice.

On he read, taking in her words, her thoughts and emotions. Every so often he came across a line, a paragraph, that made him pause so he could absorb it and come to terms with the incredible intensity of her emotions. If this was what she had felt for David how could he, Klavier, possibly fathom the depths of her devotion to Simon?

"Hey fop," Ema interrupted his musings and he looked up in pleasant surprise to see her leaning against the table. His eyes ran swiftly over her smiling face and down the body that was sliding into the seat opposite him.

"You should take that lab coat off, my lovely detective," he said setting the book down. "To hide that body is to deprive the world of a beautiful form."

She flushed. "_Not in public_," she admonished him. "You promised to behave."

He smirked. "If I was not behaving, you would be in my arms and I would be pressing your heavenly lips to mine in—"

"Okay," Ema cut him off loudly.

He winked at her but she only scowled, looking around to make sure no one was watching. Klavier followed her gaze. Several people were glancing their way and, seeing her panicked look, he laughed.

"Fräulein," he said in a reassuring voice. "I am renowned for being a flirt. I very much doubt anybody will assume I am doing anymore than my usual number on you."

"Gee, now I feel better," she said rolling her eyes.

His eyes twinkled. "Jealous, Ema?"

"Don't you ever stop?"

"Stop what, _liebling_?"

"Being you?"

"I find myself confused, Fräulein," Klavier said, leaning back in his seat. "Was it not me that you fell in love with?"

"W-What?" Ema sputtered. "I–I don't—"

"You don't love me?"

"No! I mean, no I don't mean that I don't! And that doesn't mean that I'm saying I _do_, I'm just—"

Klavier shook his head. "Let me ask you the same question."

Ema just stared at him as he leaned across the table and dropped his voice to a low murmur. "Do you never stop being you?" Shock flitted across her face. "You see I have a problem with you, Ema Skye."

Ema's eyes widened for a split second and he saw a flash of dismay in them before they narrowed again. "Do you."

Klavier nodded, staring at her attentively. "After all, it is Ema Skye who has stolen my heart, robbed me of my dreams and rendered me incapable of functioning without her."

Her angry look evaporated instantly and she ducked her head. Klavier laughed when he saw the little smile on her face and she rolled her eyes at him again. "You seem to be doing just fine, fop-face," she said, nodding at the book. "Didn't take you for much of a reader. What is it?" Klavier glanced at _Voices On The Air_ and held it up for her to see. "Is that the same woman you...?"

Klavier nodded. "I was curious about her work – she was a writer – so I bought this."

Ema was quiet and his curiosity was aroused by the serious look on her face. "Klavier…"

His insides gave a jolt – he loved the way his name sounded on her lips. "Ema…"

"Deston and I need to talk to you about something."

"You are not leaving me for him already, are you?" he joked.

"Klavier!" she scolded.

He laughed. "What is it, Fräulein? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, nothing's _wrong_…" Ema sighed. "I just want to wait till Deston's here to talk to you about it."

"Well, it appears you will not have to wait for long," Klavier said, glancing over her shoulder and she turned in her seat to follow his gaze. "Hmm. Why is he so angry?"

Indeed, seeing Deston marching through the cafeteria startled the on-lookers as the usually good-natured, laid-back Gavinner had never before displayed such open rage. Klavier and Ema stared at him as he came to a stop before them, his breathing uneven and his eyes flashing. He was looking at a point in between the couple and his fists were clenched.

"Deston?"

He didn't look at her. "Yes, Ema," he said tersely.

"Are you okay?"

A shudder ripped through him. Klavier frowned, his apprehension increasing considerably when he saw Deston's body shaking, and gripped his arm. "Sit down," Klavier instructed him.

Deston looked at him then, his expression dark, and Klavier felt a sudden sickening drop in his stomach – there was a gut-wrenching sensation that he was looking into the face of Deston's past.

_Shit._

He was on his feet in an instant. "Deston," he said slowly. "Sit down."

"Get your hand off me, Klavier."

Ema was visibly shocked by Deston's harsh tone but the prosecutor had been expecting it. Knowing that to ignore him would be a huge mistake, Klavier did as he was told and backed off. His sharp eyes flickered over the cafeteria and he saw that half of the staff had stopped to stare at them and only turned away when they saw the prosecutor looking at them.

"We should go some place else," Klavier said in a low voice, ill at ease. "There are too many people here."

"Gavin, just— "

Ema touched Deston then, stopping him mid-sentence. "Please."

He watched as Deston stared at Ema for several moments, sighing with relief when he surrendered. Klavier stepped back, letting Deston sweep past him, and walked alongside Ema, waiting until there was sufficient distance between them and Deston before talking to her.

"What has happened?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know." She shook her head in response, perturbed. "I've never seen him like this before."

Klavier didn't say anything, looking at his friend with troubled eyes. The fact was that he _had _seen Deston this way before – a long time ago. The memory made him wince and he hoped to against hope that he was over-reacting.

"He's walking too fast," Ema said, increasing her speed to catch up to him as he yanked the door open with more force than was necessary. Klavier sighed and followed suit, shooting an arm out to grab the door as it closed.

"Deston!" Ema called after him but Klavier touched her shoulder, shaking his head.

"He needs a moment."

Ema's lips pressed together and she looked at Deston again who was a ways from them. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"No," Klavier said grimly. "There is no way to get through to him right now."

"I don't get it," Ema said, shaking her head. "He was fine when I left him."

Klavier glanced at her. "Where was he going?"

She looked uneasy again. "He said he was going to talk to a colleague." Her gaze was drawn back to Deston and comprehension dawned on her face. "Maybe he had an argument with her."

"With who?" Klavier asked.

"He found out that someone in his department's been… abusing her power."

"Aaaah…" He shook his head knowingly and Ema raised an eyebrow at him. "Deston has absolute zero-tolerance for betrayal."

"Well, I don't blame him," Ema muttered under her breath.

Edgeworth's revelation about Ema sprang to Klavier's mind and he resisted the protective urge to pull her into a hug, guessing what she was thinking about and feeling a pang at the expression on her face.

"He looks calmer," she said suddenly and he snapped his attention back to his friend who was heading back their way. Although he did indeed look calmer, Klavier saw the immense effort Deston was putting into wiping his face of emotion.

"Walk with me," he said as he neared them and they turned on the spot, without question, to follow him once again. Klavier stole a glance at Ema – she was biting her lip.

"Deston," Klavier said as he led them farther and farther away from the precinct. "What the hell is wrong?"

"Just follow me," Deston snapped. "I don't have time for 20 questions right now."

Though not used to being addressed this way by anyone, least of all Deston, Klavier didn't retaliate. Ema appeared ready to say something but he shook his head, indicating that now was not a good time to communicate – the silence was too ominous. Seeing the furtive way he looked at Deston, Ema nodded in agreement, leaving Klavier to swim through his thoughts.

The last time Deston's fury had truly reached its staggering heights had been after Raina's death. That day had been among one of the darkest for the Gavinners; they had watched helplessly as insane grief and a violent need for vengeance had consumed him. Klavier had known then that the sight of the frenzied madness in Deston's face would stay with him for the rest of his life. It had been that day that he'd become aware of Deston's true nature – that beneath the deep and still sea lurked a terrifying maelstrom of emotion waiting to be coaxed into being, one that threatened to take him under should he lose his life-line.

It had been that day that they had become more than just a rock band. That day, when they had promised to pull Deston free of that vortex of insanity sucking him in, an unspoken vow had arisen among them – that they would always and forever look out for one another. That was the day the Gavinners had truly formed.

Klavier paused to give passage to a group of giggling pedestrians, too absorbed in thought to notice he was the subject of their hysterics. It had been decided all those years ago: they would protect one another, guard one another and, if need be, save one another – even if it was from themselves.

Inevitably, his thoughts turned to Daryan, his best friend since childhood, the man he'd considered his number one. His betrayal had stung Klavier all the more and the lack of an answer to his question only drove a darker, thicker wedge between them. If Daryan could not tell him why, then Klavier had nothing to say to him. All he could do was uphold his end of the promise – to save Daryan from himself.

And that was why Daryan Crescend currently rested in Central Prison.

"In here," Deston said, impatience bleeding through his words. Ema and Klavier both looked at Cruise Park in surprise before swiftly passing through the gates Deston was waiting at. Silently, the prosecutor vowed he wouldn't let Deston's irrepressible anger destroy him.

Unbeknownst to Klavier, Ema was watching him, analysing his body language, following his gaze every time it moved towards Deston and wishing she knew what Klavier was thinking. There was an understanding in his features, whenever he looked at his friend, that Ema didn't share in. What did he know that she didn't?

Her attention reverted to the other Gavinner that was quietly leading them to an unknown location. Like a chill wind, fear washed over her at the memory of the frenzied look of rage that she'd seen in his eyes. For a moment, she had stared into the face of a stranger – a stranger that she wasn't sure she wanted to know. The steel of his eyes, the coldly sinister tone of his voice had scared her, reminding her of another man, one who'd hidden an evil nature beneath a smooth veneer of compassion and kindness.

She shivered, chastising herself for comparing Deston to Gant. Deston had saved her life whereas Gant had only sought to destroy it to suit his own dark purpose… There was no similarity between the two, none at all. Her paranoia was getting the better of her.

Warm fingers dug into her arm and she looked to their source, startled. Klavier's eyes were moving back and forth between hers, a silent question lingering in the air between them. She smiled sheepishly and shrugged to let him know that she was fine and he only stared at her in response, probing her green depths to discover the truth beneath her badly-gestured lie. Unsettled by his searching gaze and hoping to banish his anxiety, she squared her shoulders and glanced around her surroundings to find that there weren't many people about. The weather, gray and dismal, had forced everyone to retire indoors. She couldn't blame them; those dark clouds looked ready to unleash their wrath.

"I'm sorry for losing my temper," Deston spoke at last, turning to face them. "I've had a crap day."

"To say the least," Klavier stated dryly.

Deston looked at Ema. "I couldn't find her. She's disappeared."

"Disappeared!" Ema exclaimed. "Wait, you don't think something's happened to her, do you?"

Deston's face contorted as if he'd caught whiff of something particularly nasty. "I only wish," he spat venomously. "She stopped coming into work almost two weeks ago but it's been less than three days since her last letter. Wherever she is, she's fine and she's not on our side."

Klavier looked between them silently, not wanting to disrupt the flow of their conversation, and tried to put together the pieces with the information he gathered.

"How do you know when she sent her last letter?" Ema asked.

"Daryan told me."

Klavier's face underwent a startling, prismatic series of expressions; his mouth tightened into a thin line, the muscles in his face tautened and his eyebrows contracted over his darkening eyes. His heavy glare turned on Deston, questions merging with deep resentment that they were still honouring Daryan with visits as though he hadn't betrayed him – betrayed them _all_. But his friend only stared back unflinchingly, a hard stare that told him that Deston didn't – and wasn't going to – feel guilty about it.

"We have a lot to talk about," Deston said, disregarding Klavier's thunderous countenance. "And very little time."

Ema murmured his name and he wrenched his attention away from his friend to look at her; the expression on her face reminded him of the day at the beach when she had silently vowed to be his rock.

As if she wanted to leave no doubt in his mind, his fingers were suddenly claimed by her slender ones and she pressed the palm of her hand into his. His grimace slackened into astonishment by her open show of affection, when they both knew the risk that lay in her small gesture – anybody could see. And it was this, more than anything else, that overrode the currents of anger rushing through him.

With a calm expression, he turned back to Deston who folded his arms.

"How about we find some place private to talk?"

* * *

"Why didn't you tell him about Kristoph's involvement in this?" Ema asked of Deston as they headed into the Archives room of the CJIS building. She watched him shut the door behind them and followed him to the cabinets at the back. It wasn't until he pulled out his keys and unlocked it that she noticed the smaller, more inconspicuous door. A moment later, it was swung open and he led her into a smaller, darker space that looked as though it had been abandoned long ago. Flicking the switch, he bathed them in dim light before moving to more cabinets at the back.

"Because he'll flip out," Deston answered, pulling open one of the drawers and rummaging through the files. It took a moment for Ema to remember what question he was answering.

"Don't you think he has a right to know?"

"C'mon, Ema," he said impatiently, pulling a folder out and flipping through it quickly. "You saw how he reacted to the mention of Daryan. What do you think he'd do if I told him Tray's missing but she's still sending letters to Kristoph?"

"I'm still finding it hard to believe that Kristoph's causing trouble from behind bars. What does he _want_?" Ema fumed.

"People like Kristoph are never happy so they delight in making everyone else miserable," Deston sighed. "He's probably trying to think of a way to cause trouble for someone."

"How did Kristoph get to be so messed up when Klavier's so… _grounded_?"

Deston paused from his perusal. "They've had different upbringings," he explained. "Their parents separated when Klavier was 6."

Ema's eyes widened in astonishment. "Really? But I always got the impression that…"

"They were a happy household torn apart by the tragic death of their parents?" Deston guessed. "Didn't you ever wonder how they got to be so different?"

Ema nodded, a frown on her face. "I did… I mean Kristoph and Klavier are like two sides of the same coin."

"Yeah," Deston sighed. "When their parents separated, their dad got custody of Kristoph and Mrs Gavin got Klavier. It was an arrangement that suited only the parents. Both brothers were really upset by it. Yeah, you may be surprised Em," he said, noting Ema's incredulous expression, "but they used to be really close."

"I've never really heard Klavier talk about Kristoph, even before his trial. I just kinda assumed they weren't all that close."

"They drifted apart after their separation," Deston said. "Kristoph got moved to the States and K stayed with his mom in Berlin for most of his childhood."

"And then he moved here to be with his brother?"

"Much good it did him. When he next saw him, Kristoph had changed so much that K… Well." Deston paused, throwing her a sad smile. "Kristoph and Klavier have lived in each other's shadow ever since." He shrugged. "Which is why I can't tell K anything yet."

Ema's shoulders sagged dejectedly and she rubbed her temples, groaning in frustration. "Well, what the hell is going on? You said that you suspect Tray's a member of this ring."

"I was lying," Deston said, ramming the folder back in and resuming his search. "I couldn't exactly tell him the truth, could I?"

"I guess," Ema said, unconvinced.

"I wouldn't ever deceive my friend for the fun of it, Ema," Deston reassured her. "Especially not when I'm working on a case with him."

"Don't you think it's weird how our investigations have been linked all this time?" Ema said, frowning.

"Yeah… But then again, with a crime ring as huge as this, an overlap is bound to happen. Obviously this Rafael's got his claws in everything."

"I still don't get why Klavier couldn't tell us why he had to go see that guy's brother," Ema said grumpily, remembering the fop's insistence that he had something important to discuss with David Rainsford. "I'm sure it could have waited."

"He probably has a good reason for it, Ema," Deston said soothingly, looking up at her. "Besides, I'm glad he did. I don't want to execute this plan while K's around. I've got no idea what I might find and I don't want him to blow up in my face for no reason."

"Do you mind sharing your plan with me?" Ema said waspishly.

"It's obvious that Kristoph is up to something and he's using Tray's help," Deston explained without missing a beat and returning his attention to the files. "What I want to know is why she's helping him."

"Why do _you_ think she's helping him?"

"My initial reaction was to assume that Kristoph had something over her head but with her going AWOL, I'm not so sure." He pulled another file out and flipped through it. "I'm hoping something in here's going to help me find the answer to my question."

"And what question's that?"

"What she's been checking." When Ema didn't speak, he glanced up at her, sighing at her expression (and earning a scowl from her) before snapping the folder shut and replacing it. "All these," he explained, gesturing around them at the cabinets, "are records of all the information people access during their time in this building. I'm trying to find her file."

Ema frowned, spotting an obvious problem. "But would she be stupid enough to leave behind that sort of information? I mean, that way, anybody could find out what she's up to."

"No." Deston's nose was now practically buried in the piles of paper as his fingers worked their way into the back of the drawer. "Only a few people know that we store this information here. A few years ago, the powers that be decided that it was best to keep this a secret from the employees."

"Isn't that unethical?" Ema asked with a raise of her eyebrows.

"Maybe. But it certainly helped us to…" he drifted off as his eyes zoned in on something in the drawer and he made a frustrated sound, pulling back and forcing it shut with a loud bang. He stepped sideways plunging into another cabinet. "Yeah, anyway, it may be considered wrong but it helped us to weed out the liars and those who'd use the system for their own selfish purposes, thus making the department much more effective."

"And you're one of the few who know about this place," Ema stated unnecessarily, looking around the small room, jam-packed with piles upon piles of boxes and filing cabinets.

"Uh-huh. I'm part of too many—here it is!" he said with satisfaction, pulling a thick folder out and slamming the drawer shut. "Let's see what Tray's been up to, shall we?"

"Don't you feel like you're reading her diary or something?" Ema said, eyeing the file in his hands with something akin to disapproval.

Deston laughed and she was glad to hear the sound – the moody Deston wasn't the most agreeable nor comfortable person to be around. "I don't give a damn about her privacy, Em," he said. "Tray's supplying information to Kristoph. She's a traitor."

"You've got a point," Ema agreed. When Deston didn't answer, she silenced, not wanting to distract him. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and frowned, seeing that she had a message. Taking it in both hands, she opened it, her frown quickly turning into a smile when Klavier's name appeared at the top of her screen.

_Fraulein— ah, I forgot your name. Can I call you mine, instead? (and if you forget my name, you can call me yours). I wish to spend tonight with you. Dinner at 8? I will be out of work for the rest of the day. Don't break my heart, angel divine. Always, Yours. _

Ema glanced at Deston to make sure he wasn't watching her before she tapped back a reply:

_Hey Fop. Dinner 8? No. Dinner 9, yes. And if I ever forget your name, I already have a perfect substitute. Be safe._

She read through it multiple times to make sure it wasn't too clingy nor too standoffish. After a fourth run-through and with the reassurance that he wouldn't find something to be offended (or arrogant) about, she pressed the send button and stowed her cell away.

Deston was still absorbed in reading the information in his hands and she resisted the urge to talk to him. This was easily done as her mood had improved again since Klavier's text and she decided to pass the time with her favourite hobby; she reached into her bag and pulled out her Snackoos which almost dropped when Deston suddenly swore loudly.

"What?" Ema demanded instantly, shoving her snacks back inside her bag. In response, he approached her, turning the folder so that she could what he was pointing at.

"Raoul's name is in here," Deston said, tapping at his friend's name. "As well as Gavin, Rainsford and—"

"Mr Wright?" Ema read off the page, her astonished eyes rising to his.

"Yeah," Deston said grimly. "Phoenix." He pulled the folder around to survey it again. "And that's not all. Romano's name is in here too. All this information was accessed in the past six weeks. Whatever Tray's up to, she knows way too much."

"B-but…!" Ema spluttered. "I mean, what the hell?"

"What the hell indeed," Deston said, his eyes darting around the sheet. "I can understand how Rainsford and Romano are linked but what do the Gavins have to do with this? And what's this crap about Raoul initiating witness protection for—"

"Wait," Ema interrupted, having only registered one thing. "Gavin? What, you mean like Kristoph or—?"

"No," Deston said, running a hand through his hair. "Not the brothers. Their parents."

"Klavier's _parents_?"

Deston looked at her then, a calculating look, as if he were trying to make his mind up about something. After a few moments of staring at her, he snapped the folder shut, placed it under his arm and gestured for her to step out of the room. Perplexed, she complied, turning around to watch him turn the keys in the lock and following him out of the two rooms until they were making their way through the hustle and bustle of the Supervised Release File division.

_Klavier's parents? _she thought to herself. _What have they got to do with any of this?_

It had occurred to her that being an orphan was one thing she and Klavier had in common and it struck her as odd that she knew nothing about their manner of dying. The curiosity had hit her at times but she had pushed it away, knowing that if Klavier wanted to tell her, wanted her to know, he would tell her himself. After all, she could hardly expect him to divulge his past to her so quickly – she hadn't.

But now that Deston had mentioned the Gavin parents, Ema felt that their death was even more important in Klavier's life than she might have guessed. That they were mentioned in a file concerning crime made her all the more apprehensive as to the nature of Klavier's past…

And nobody could have missed the bleak look Deston had betrayed moments ago.

"Deston?" she called after him, increasing her pace to keep up with his long strides. The agent glanced over his shoulder and slowed down immediately with a look of remorse painting his softening features.

"I'm sorry, Em," he said gently and placed a hand on her back. "I've had a crappy day… but that's no excuse to act like a jerk to you."

"What's going on? I'm confused."

"So am I, babe," he admitted, holding the door open and waiting for her to pass through before putting his hand at the small of her back again. He glanced around while leading her through the chaotic lobby and out through the exit. "I don't know how any of this ties together."

"Why were Klavier's parents in that file?"

He didn't answer straight away; his focus was on the consumption of cars and she allowed him to escort her across the busy road to the parking lot on the other side. "Has Klavier told you how they died?" Deston said, glancing down at her and she shook her head. His lips pursed and she saw doubt flicker across his face but then he nodded towards the stairwell before them. "After you, Em. I had to park my car at the top."

Ema started up the stairs, trying to suppress the desire to turn on him and demand answers. She suddenly felt a cold dread run over her, not knowing the reason for it. Bizarrely, it wasn't a worry for herself but for Deston, Phoenix, Daryan and, most of all, Klavier.

Klavier with his forced smiles and his passionate search for the truth.

Klavier who'd sacrificed his friendship with Daryan in pursuit of justice.

Klavier who'd maintained a brave face in spite of his brother's public humiliation and betrayal.

Where would this new turn take Klavier?

The question was like a flash-fire in her body, leaving behind a dense chill that she couldn't shake. Ema took a deep breath, trying to calm down and telling herself that she was jumping to conclusions again. There was no need to assume this would all turn out for the worst…

Deston followed her, his steady footsteps heightening the anxiousness in her like a glass that was close to overflowing. Inexplicably, she felt disconcerted by his presence behind her that was born out of her mistrust, her instinct that was never to turn her back on anyone. Just then, a sudden gust of air made her shiver and all her dark thoughts dissolved momentarily. She drew her coat tighter around her, wondering how much farther they would have to go – the dull, cold weather was not helping her mood.

"Wait here, Em," Deston instructed her when they reached the next floor, having seen her shiver. "I'll bring the car down here. There's no use you walking all the way up there." When Ema smiled gratefully, he nodded at her. "I won't be a minute. Just wait by that ramp," he added, gesturing towards it.

"Okay."

She watched Deston run up the stairs before making her way across to the assigned spot, her mind full of questions – mostly about Klavier and his past. What Deston had told her about his relationship with Kristoph was finally beginning to sink in and her heart twisted with pity; she could understand what Klavier must have felt upon his brother's changed behaviour. With an unpleasant lurch, she remembered Lana's icy manner during the time she'd spent with Gant. Her pain at Lana's coldness had left her restless and unhappy. Seeing her bond with her sister disintegrate, helpless to stop it, had made her desperate to the point where she'd dreaded seeing Lana's face after school. The only thing that had kept her sane was the mantra she'd adapted: _it'll get better, it'll get better… Lana's probably just stressed with work…_ It had been a useless, empty consolation but it was the memory of her childhood with Lana that had helped her survive. There had been times when Lana had smiled at her affectionately – albeit rarely – and Ema would know there was still hope.

But what about Klavier? Had his brother's shadow grown so long that he'd lost sight of the light? Ema wouldn't blame him – after all, hadn't Kristoph murdered someone? And that Kristoph had tried to pin it on Phoenix, the man he'd befriended, must have niggled at Klavier and troubled him…

And what had he felt, knowing that Kristoph was good friends with the man that Klavier believed to be corrupt? Ema no longer fumed at the thought of Klavier hating Phoenix. After all, she – and everyone else – had been deceived by Gant simply due to his pleasant exterior. It was the same with Klavier, except in reverse. It was a misunderstanding that, she hoped, would one day be cleared up. She knew Phoenix Wright – he wouldn't rest until the truth was revealed.

_Come on, Mr Wright, _she prayed silently. _Work your magic on Klavier too…_

She heard the sound of a car drive past and she glanced up to see if it was Deston, pouting in disappointment at the unfamiliar BMW that pulled on to the floor. Ema stepped off to the side, out of the way of the oncoming car, plunging her hand into her pocket again to pull out her phone. This time, when she saw Klavier's message, a feeling of guilt washed over her when she remembered how unrelenting her previous message had been. Klavier never held back on his feelings and yet she was always hesitant, always too insecure to return in kind…

_9 it is. I will cook. And you can call me anything you wish, Ema. As long as I get to call you my own. _

Shaking her head, she stopped mid-step to reply to his message. Most days, her answer would have made her cringe but this time, she was compelled to be affectionate; all she wanted to do was make him smile, even if she wasn't there to see it.

_I look forward to tonight, Klavier & not just because of the food._

She paused, choosing her next words and smiling as her fingers resumed their dance on the keys of her phone.

_One condition. No Gavinners music blaring in the background._

The BMW paused before her suddenly and the driver, a man with sunglasses, gestured for her to move out of the way. Realising she was stood in front of a parking spot, she jumped to the side, glaring at him for his rude behaviour but was distracted by the beep of her phone.

_Done, Fräulein. What would you prefer?_

Perfect – he'd asked exactly the question she'd hoped he would. Ema's mouth twitched as she imagined his expression at her response.

_Aren't you supposed to be talking to Rainsford, fop?_

His answer, again, was immediate: _I am. However, David is currently busy and I am left to plan our evening together. So, what would you like to listen to as I charm you into my arms?_

The thought of his embrace caused her heart to skip a beat and she took a deep breath to steady herself. With a secret smile playing on her lips, she typed out her text and cocked her head, scrutinising it for possible cheesiness before deciding that she didn't care how stupid it sounded, and pressed the send button. In fact, she hoped that her reply would shock him, please him and make him laugh all at once.

_Your voice._

Hearing the door of the car behind her open reminded her of Deston who still hadn't arrived. She raised the phone again, this time to ring Deston and ask him what the hell was taking so long, but it began to buzz and ring, startling her. She laughed when she saw Klavier's name on the display – she guessed that, at the very least, she'd surprised him.

But she never got to find out.

Her attacker moved with eerie swiftness; her gasp was cut short as unbearable pain lanced through her head and she stumbled. Everything broke into a haze, dotted with silver sparks, and she breathed through the agony, unable to comprehend anything but the feel that her skull had been ripped apart, her brain yanked out…

And then an odd sort of feeling overwhelmed her and she felt heavy, useless… She tried to lift her arm but she couldn't see, couldn't feel, couldn't _think_…

_Klavier…_

This time, the blow came with the force of a thousand men – it drove her into the void, her only companion the twinkling, blue eyes of the man she didn't know if she would see again.


	24. Race

Race

'.'

Heed my warning, heathen child,

I see thy soul and it is wild,

Take to thee, a cutting blade,

And cleave away at what has decayed

.'.

_The first voice she heard was that of a woman; it rang in her ears like a soft lullaby, an echoed tinkling that hit her brain like a thousand knives. The haze was pushed back by the sudden, throbbing ache that overwhelmed her and her head lolled of its own volition as if it were trying to throw it off. She groaned._

"_Looks like she's waking up," a gruff voice observed. _

_There was no response. Ema's head hung in between her shoulders and she moaned again, sparks blinding her already blurred vision as the ache exploded into agonising pain. She tried to touch her head but couldn't; she felt lethargi__c__, her movement sluggish. Throwing her head back, she squeezed her eyes shut._

"_I hope you didn't do any brain damage, Sloan," the woman said softly. "You seem to have hit her a little harder than necessary."_

"_She was stumbling around, half-conscious," he said defensively. "I had to kno__ck her out__."_

"_I'm sure you did," replied the same soft voice. _

_The pain receded to a throbbing ache again and Ema lifted her head, slowly opening her eyes so that she could see who was talking, where she was, what the hell was going on…_

_Then, it all came back to her and their words finally sunk in. Ema's eyes snapped open in shock just as her brain finally caught up with her and she was confronted with two forms that slowly became sharper with every passing second. Ema blinked, patiently and quietly, the headache fast becoming a nonentity in the face of the situation she found herself in. _

"_Huh, I dunno what the hell he sees in her," the gruff voice said and it was a sign of how aware Ema had become of her surroundings that she was offended – before the thought of Klavier crossed her mind. Where was he? A flash of horror went through her at the thought that they had him… but then she remembered that he'd been out of town._

_With enough awareness, Ema tried to rub her eyes to clear them but found that she still couldn't move her arms. Merinthophobia striking her, she became aware of the cool steel kissing the skin of her wrists – which she now realised were elevated. Ema snapped her head to look at her hands, ignoring the pain the sudden movement caused her, and was dismayed to see herself chained to a stone wall. As if her brain needed visual confirmation before sending out the message, she felt a numbness spread through her fingers and arms. _

"_I see it," the woman spoke, drawing Ema's attention back to her. "She's certainly an odd choice but I see it."_

_The words barely registered in Ema's mind; she was entranced by the woman in white, sitting in a chair nearby. Her back was arched regally, her legs crossed at the knees as if she was perfectly at home in this environment. But, when Ema took in her appearance, she couldn't imagine anyone looking more out of place; she exuded intense power and beauty the likes of which Ema had never before experienced. Her eyes, so intently fixed on Ema, were a piercing gray that shone like silver moonlight, sitting beneath arched eyebrows. Enchanting and queenly, her face was framed in waves of glossy auburn hair that fell down to her waist. Perfectly defined cheekbones rose prominently when her luscious lips curved into a smile, as if she found Ema's scrutiny amusing._

_Suddenly, she rose to her feet and Ema felt a twinge of intimidation at her form; she was tall and the skin-tight suit she donned hinted at a slender yet voluptuous figure – if Ema had believed in Grecian goddesses, she'd have sworn she'd found one now. _

"_Ema Skye," she uttered in a gentle voice, moving towards her with the gait of a lioness. "We meet at last."_

_Though a thousand questions ran through her mind, Ema did nothing but stare at her captor stonily. She wouldn't give her the satisfaction of sensing any fear – at least that's what she thought until a different kind of apprehension gripped her. _

"_Where's Klavier?" The words were out of her mouth before she could think to stop herself._

"_Not to worry, Detective," came the answer. "Klavier's visiting a… relative."_

"_What did you do to Deston?" _

_Her mouth curled into another smile. "Well, Sloan?" The man behind her stirred and Ema recognised him from the parking lot. "What did you do to Deston?" she said, her voice taking on a mocking tone._

"_Nothin', ma'am," he said. "You told me to leave him alone."_

"_You see, Ema?" she said softly. "I haven't done anything to them."_

"_Good," Ema said frostily._

"_Angsty rockers don't interest me," she replied, her mouth twisting in slight disgust._

"_Who are you?" Ema demanded loudly. "And what the hell do you want with me?"_

"_You've had my interest for quite some time, Ema," the woman replied, dropping into a crouch before her._

"_Let me guess," Ema said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want to know where I got my lab coat from."_

"_I see why Klavier hired you, Ema," the woman said with an indulgent laugh. "Not afraid, are you?"_

"_I wasn't taught to fear trash like you," Ema spat._

"_Why you—"_

"_Sloan." The woman held up a hand and he silenced immediately. "Now, Ema. Do we have to resort to name-calling? Let's keep this friendly."_

"_I think you pushed your luck when you told that buffoon over there to knock me over the head," Ema snarled, willing her pain to go away._

"_Believe me," the woman said quietly. "I had nothing to do with his method. My only request was that he bring you to me."_

"_Who the hell are you?" Ema said, her anger rising as she yanked on the chains that shackled her. Her captor glanced at them fleetingly._

"_You won't be able to get out of those without my help, Detective," she said softly. _

_Ema stilled, focusing the extent of her wrath on the woman. "And I'm to believe that you'll let me go – eventually."_

"_That's right. But you'll have to do something for me."_

"_Oh right," Ema said, nodding in mock submission. "Of course."_

_The beauty in white seemed unfazed by the sarcasm in Ema's words. "Your boyfriend is really making my life diffi__cult__, Detective, and it's starting to irritate me. Simply put, I want him to stop."_

_A thousand answers flooded her and Ema froze, her body going cold. She stared into the eyes of the woman before her, recognising her at last, and sho__ck __ gripped her._

"_You're Irina Ethans," she said faintly, slumping against the wall with realisation._

"_You've heard of me," Irina said, beaming dazzlingly._

"_You tried to kill me," Ema whispered, shock rippling through her. She snapped her eyes up to the gray ones. "You tried to kill me."_

_Irina didn't look remotely abashed; she only continued to smile at Ema. "You're not an easy target, Ema. Still, I'm glad you escaped. It means I can use you now." She placed a finger under Ema's chin, lifting her face but the detective shook her off with a hiss. "It all worked out for the best."_

"_Screw you!"_

"_Lucky for you, I have an amazing ability to go deaf at all the right times, Em," Irina said pleasantly. "Now, let's talk business."_

"_What the fu—"_

"_Now, now," Irina interrupted, wagging a finger. "My request is simple, Ema Skye. I want your boyfriend to stop meddling in my affairs."_

"_Or what?" Ema sneered. "What are you going to do if he doesn't? Have a tantrum? Snap your tiara?"_

_Irina was indifferent to the insults and when she spoke, it was with a serenity that shook Ema to her very core:_

"_I'll kill you all."_

* * *

"I just told him," Seren said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. His eyes zoned in on Klavier straight away who was standing by the window, looking out, his face white. "Raoul's on it."

"Thanks, Ser," Deston said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "Did your team find anything?"

"Still nothing. Her phone's the only thing that seems to have been left behind." His kind eyes moved back to the prosecutor and Seren walked to his friend, putting a reassuring hand on Klavier's shoulder. "Don't worry, Klavier. We'll find her."

Klavier's answer was a stiff nod. Even if he'd wanted to answer he wouldn't have been able to – his voice was stuck in his throat. Fear had its steely grip on him and the past came back to suffocate him with twisted images, old emotions cutting through him like razors. His heart was eating at itself like acid but he barely felt it – the sheer horror of the situation was consuming him and he wondered, as he stared out at the sky, where Ema was, if she was okay… was she frightened? Was she dead…

"_No!"_ he bellowed, coming alive with rage and spinning on the spot.

_No, life couldn't do this to him again_. It couldn't take from him another woman that made his world go around. Life couldn't be that unjust when he had sacrificed so much to bring justice to life.

"K, I promise, Ema's going to be fine," Deston said quietly but Klavier heard the desperation in his voice. His friend looked at him with uncertain eyes… and it was then, as if he was possessed, that he flew at Deston; his ringed fist connected with his friend's mouth, staggering him.

"Klavier!" Seren shouted.

Grabbing him by his shirt, Klavier pinned Deston against the wall, snarls ripping through him like a wild animal. "If _anything _happens to Ema, so help me _God_—"

"OI!" Seren shouted again, this time grabbing Klavier and throwing him backwards so that he stumbled but the prosecutor barely noticed, swept away by the intense hatred he felt for Deston right now…

"Nothing's going to happen to Ema," Seren said sternly. "Now cool it."

Deston wiped at the blood that trickled from his lip, staring at it miserably and in a moment of regret, Klavier almost thought Deston looked as if he wished it was _him _that had gone missing instead of Ema… but the thought reminded Klavier that if Deston hadn't left Ema alone, she would never have been taken. With a disgusted growl, he turned away from Deston, hating him more than he ever had before.

"Klavier," a voice said and he turned to find Raoul entering, a serious expression on his face. "I'm doing everything I can. We have CCTV footage of the guy who took her. Thug's been in the slammer before."

"Who was he?" Deston asked, drawing Raoul's attention to his swelling lip.

"Who stuck you in the face, Cavatin?"

"Get on with it!" Klavier commanded aggressively.

Raoul cocked his eyebrow at him but didn't retort. "Paul Sloan," he explained. "Low-level scum: theft, assault and battery – inchoate offences. Guy's nothin' special."

"But?" Seren said sensing, like Klavier, the unfinished sentence.

"But," Raoul said slowly, his eyes flickering hesitantly towards Deston, "he was driving a BMW."

Klavier's heart sped up when his prosecutor's mind realised what this new piece of information meant – if Sloan was suddenly in possession of a flashy car, it meant he was also in possession of money. Given his attack on Ema, Klavier guessed that Sloan hadn't landed a respectable job, which meant that he was in the employee of—

"Rainsford," Klavier muttered, shock crashing over him followed by a turbulent fear for Ema's safety. "This has Rainsford written all over it!"

"There's something else," Raoul went on, his serious eyes, fixed on Klavier. "Given his brawn-over-brain persona, it could be that he bungled the attack."

"But you think it was intentional," Seren guessed. "So that it would be caught on camera, you mean?"

The red-head nodded. "It could be a warning."

"Then why is she still missing?" Klavier snapped. _"It's been 36 hours!"_

"K," Deston tried again, quietly. "They're probably just keeping her for a while to make their point. I'm willing to bet Raoul's right."

"_Halt einfach die Fresse!" _Klavier snarled.

Raoul raised an eyebrow at Seren. "What the—?"

"I know you don't want to talk to me," Deston persisted. "But we need to work together. I want to find Ema as much as you do. I care about—"

"_You care about Ema?"_ Klavier hissed. "You left her exposed when you—"

"I know!" Deston said loudly. "Don't you think I feel guilty for that? I can't say how sorry I—"

"_Sorry?" _Klavier roared, moving so fast that neither Seren nor Raoul could stop him; he knocked Deston backwards again, pushing him till he landed against the wall with a thud, ignoring Raoul and Seren's shouts. _"You knew she was in danger and you left her alone!" _

"Alright, that's enough," Raoul ordered, suddenly appearing between the two friends and glaring at Klavier warningly. "Back off."

"Get out of my—"

"I ain't playing, Gavin," Raoul snapped, jabbing at him. "Move away."

Klavier stared at Deston through eyes burning with unforgiving disgust, Seren's restraining arms and Raoul's demands lost on his senses. He was utterly consumed with rage, accusation and, beneath it all, panic. He stared at his friend for a long time, his breathing ragged, his body tense and ready for a fight and his forgiveness closed off to his friend's pleading expression. He didn't care that Deston looked like a mess, that he sported a nasty cut in his lip, the product of Klavier's anger…

No, the only thing Klavier cared about was that Ema was missing.

It didn't matter to him that Deston had had his car tires slashed and had been hindered, that he'd been on his way down to get Ema when he'd found her missing… The only thing Klavier registered was that Deston had let Ema get kidnapped.

And now he didn't know if he would see her again.

_I __**will **__see her again_, he told himself fiercely._ I will move heaven and earth to find her._

"Yeah." Raoul's voice snapped him out of his stupor and he saw the Gavinner holding a phone to his ear, a frown between his eyes. Klavier turned away, unable to look at Raoul without seeing Deston who was still staring at him. Shrugging off Seren's hand, he growled with frustration before punching the table and leaning against it with his fists, taking deep breaths.

Part of him was still reeling with the shock of her abduction. He should have spent the night with her: drinking in the sight of her, dancing with her, singing to her… In between and after her messages, he'd daydreamed of the night they would spend together, the possibilities the future held for them and all of the things that he would shower her with: gifts, compliments, support and love. The ghost of a smile appeared when he remembered the shock he'd felt at her request to sing and he hadn't lost a moment to ring and tease her… Little had he known that his world was about to be turned upside down. He hadn't known that the night he'd been looking forward to would be spent among restless commands to the police force to find her – find her at all costs.

He closed his eyes. He shouldn't have left her with Deston. She'd asked him why he was leaving and he'd almost been swayed by the entreating look in her eyes – it had been so alien to him that he'd wondered if it had even been real. Now, though, it was of no consequence. He'd insisted on visiting David to tell him about the new information he'd gathered; he'd hoped that the knowledge would help him in tracking down this woman that was making their lives hell, following Rafael's creed…

"To hell with it," he growled, turning on the spot and walking away.

"Whoa!" Seren stepped in his way, blocking the exit. "Where are you going?"

"I want to have a word with Rainsford," he barked.

"Don't be stupid, Klavier," Raoul said. "You'll be playing right into his hands."

Klavier rounded on Raoul tempestuously. "Do not tell me what to do," he threatened. "You have no idea what it is like knowing he—"

"You're right, he doesn't know what it's like."

Deston was shaking his head and moving towards Klavier who narrowed his eyes at him. Did he want to fight with Klavier?

"He doesn't know what it's like," Deston said seriously, "to wait for news, wait to find out what's become of the woman you love. But I do."

Klavier blanched.

"Yeah," Deston nodded, a pained look flying across his features as he stopped before Klavier. "I know, K. I know what it's like wondering if she's scared, if she's in pain… if she's alive enough to feel anything at all…"

Klavier flinched, his rage at once spiking and dying down; the sheer wretchedness of Deston's expression broke through it, spreading behind the iron shield of his acrimony.

"I know how it all feels and I'm _still _telling you that talking to Rainsford will only aggravate the situation." He reached out to grip Klavier's shoulder. "I promise you, Klavier – what happened to me, won't happen to you. What happened to Raina _will not_ happen to Ema. We'll find her and when we do we're gonna find the bastards who did this. And we'll make 'em pay."

Unfathomably, a parallel struck Klavier at that moment – less than 48 hours ago, he'd been the one calming Deston down and now the roles were reversed. To his surprise, he found the reassurance effective because the anger melted away, leaving behind only a sickening dread that churned in his stomach like atroquinine, wreaking its poisonous havoc on his insides.

He stared at his friend now, a sliver of guilt and regret at the back of his mind that he knew would come full force later – but not yet. Now, everything in him was overshadowed by Ema's absence.

Klavier looked around at his band mates, these friends who hadn't hesitated in dropping everything they were working on to be by his side when they'd heard. It didn't occur to Klavier to ask how they seemed to know that his relationship with Ema had stepped beyond professional boundaries – in any case, it would make no difference. He was only relieved that he had them here, helping him, knowing that they were on his side and they would do anything to find Ema – not only because they dedicated their lives to justice and saving lives but because she was his everything. And they knew it.

"I—" Klavier started then stopped.

"We know," Seren said simply.

They all turned to Raoul; his phone had barely finished ringing before he flicked it open to answer. The Gavinners watched him, on edge, as his frowned deepened and he hung up. A momentary, thick silence hung on the air until he turned a piercing gaze on Klavier, his green eyes blazing triumphantly.

"We've found her."

* * *

There were several officers standing on the darkened steps of the precinct, watching the Gavinners run towards Raoul's car, their faces tight with the tension that came prior to any major operation. There were several women, who knew Ema's predicament, that were at once afraid for her and envious. They waved half-heartedly at the stars that pulled open the doors of the flashy vehicle.

"You're not driving," Raoul said sternly when Klavier pulled open the door to the driver's seat. "Other side, Gavin."

Klavier didn't care to waste time arguing with Raoul; he jumped over the hood, (earning a curse from his friend): "_Dai nemici mi guardo io, dagli amici mi guardi Iddio_!"

"Get a move on," Deston ordered Raoul, slamming his door shut. The red-headed Italian glanced around at his friends before nodding and the car roared to life instantly.

"Buckle up, boys," he said, his hands tightening on the wheel as he revved the engine. "I'm gonna put the hammer to the floor!"

He was true to his word – the Bugatti took off at high speed, racing through the night. They were a streak of red and black speeding through lights with its escort of lesser impressive police cruisers, their sirens blaring an open secret that the missing Ema Skye had been found…

Klavier's restless fingers tapped at the Smith & Wesson, holstered beneath his jacket. He vaguely registered his friends eyeing him warily, seeing the way he touched the weapon over and over, while staring off into the blur of the passing houses, roads, trees and cars until they were in the emptiness of the highway. They said nothing though, knowing that his impatience could erupt into something else and jeapordise their mission.

The radio that Raoul was wearing blared and he pulled it off, speaking into it while keeping his eyes fixed intently on the road. Klavier turned to look at him, not listening to the message but watching his friend's expression for shock, horror, sadness, anything that would tell him if Ema was—

"Find out," Raoul hissed. "_Don't _let anyone in or out."

"What—?" Seren started but was cut off when the car roared again as Raoul sped up.

"Tell me," Klavier said simply, turning to look at him and when there was no response, his heart raced faster than the vehicle that carried him towards his destination. "Adagio, _dammit_! Answer me!"

"They heard a shot from inside the building where we think she is."

Klavier turned cold. "How far away—?" he asked hoarsely but the knot of police officers gathered in the shadow of a building answered his question. The car slowed, jerking to a stop, and the Gavinners quickly reached out to stop themselves colliding with the surface before them. Klavier's eyes, however, were on the scene before him and he drank in the sight of the derelict structure that towered over the many units surrounding it. His blue eyes swept upwards, taking in the many windows, wondering which one held Ema – if any did at all.

The officers had turned around when they heard the squeal of brakes and they moved to meet them halfway, greeting them gravely. Several of them rallied around Raoul and Deston who were firing questions at them. Klavier knew he should listen to what they were saying but his attention was focused on the building, his eyes sweeping the windows again.

_Where are you, Ema?_

"She's waiting for you," Seren said quietly as if he'd read his mind. "I bet she's just bursting to throw foppish obscenities at you."

Klavier chuckled dryly. "No doubt."

"Hey!" Raoul called, waving them over.

"Are you sure she's in there?" Seren asked.

Raoul nodded. "Some of the officers saw an unidentified figure hold her up to the window."

"So someone's in there with her," Seren deducted.

"We've got a blueprint of the building," Raoul said gesturing to it. "It used to be an old industrial site. There's two entrances here," he said tapping at the map, "and one on each side. They're all covered. An officer thought he saw a flash of light on the third floor and that's where Ema was seen." He flicked a hand towards the site. "That's where we'll be heading."

"What are we waiting for?" Deston said, throwing his jacket off and picking up a gun from the hood of a car. "Let's go."

Raoul glanced around them as if he was considering giving them a pep-talk but thought better of it. His eyes drifted to Klavier whose hands were still weapon-free. "If you're not going to use a gun then stay behind us, Gavin."

Klavier nodded, absent-mindedly. With his friends in the lead and several officers on either side, they moved quietly towards the building. He knew that they were jumping a step ahead – there had been no attempt made to contact anybody on the inside. But he wasn't complaining – the bastards deserved no more.

A hard grip on his arm slowed him down and he frowned at Raoul who pulled him back. "I_ said_," he hissed,"stay behind us."

Klavier scowled. "Move!"

And then they were running stealthily across the barren land, signalling one another. Gone were the rock stars, the public saw with their flashy clothes, and their charming smiles were replaced with intensely serious expressions. Their hands, that their fans saw only wrapped around guitars, now clutched deadlier instruments. Raoul and Deston in the lead, they passed through the doorless entrance; the red-head gestured for the officers to follow one flight of stairs while he led his friends and a couple of others up the other side.

The stone steps were chipped and uneven, lit by the fragmented light that trickled in through sporadic windows and cracks. The stairwells were narrow and the thick walls that encased them made the dark denser, more sinister and it weighed heavily on him… Klavier's heart battered against his chest, his dread increasing with every step he took upwards. His eyes didn't wander – he followed the line of officers ahead of him, their torches sickeningly distorting and enlarging the snarling shadows. His feelings hopped from fear to dread, morphing into a hatred that came hand in hand with his growing need for vengeance. Rafael had just made this personal and Klavier was going to take immense pleasure in torturing him to his death…

_And if anything happens to Ema, I will kill him with my own two hands…_

The night sank its claws into him, turning his already black thoughts blacker. He punched a wall as he raced up the steps, adrenaline and worry giving a heavier thud to his running steps—

—which stopped when a sudden noise caught their attention. They froze.

Klavier reached for his gun instantly, pulling it out and aligning his arms with his body. He threw a sharp glance at Deston who jerked his head towards the landing. Together, they quietly slipped up the last set of steps, flowing towards the source of the sound like one entity, completely in tune with one another. The red-head paused on one side of the doorway and Deston on the other, both their guns held aloft. Seren stood nearby, gesturing for the police to surround the doorway, their rifles at the ready.

Klavier met Raoul's stare. His friend held his steady gaze for several long moments and then, quite suddenly, nodded towards the door. The prosecutor didn't need telling twice. He closed the distance between himself and the door, where he turned to look at Deston who nodded at him too. He took a deep breath to calm the anxiety threatening to engulf him.

Then he took a step back and kicked the door open.

The shouts of his companions were lost on him. Klavier's alarm exploded into a symbiosis of terror and elation when he saw the huddle of white in the darkened corner of the room. Her head rested against her chest, the dishevelled hair hiding her face from sight. Without looking around to see if there was anyone else nearby, he raced across the stone floor, falling beside her. His voice had vanished.

"Get those fucking chains open!"

The gun clattered to the floor when Klavier reached out to lift her chin. He inhaled sharply when he saw that her face was caked with blood, playing host to several small gashes and a bruised lip. Her closed eyes petrified him and his fingers groped at her neck for a pulse desperately. When he found nothing but damp, cold skin, his heart lurched into his throat – until a faint beat caught the attention of his searching hands. He pressed against it, perhaps harder than was necessary, and relief crashed over him like a wave that had built it's momentum in a race beyond control.

His eyes were drawn to the sound of an officer sawing at the metal bindings that chained her hands to the wall and his heart turned over when he noticed the raw skin of her wrists, as if she'd spent countless hours trying to wrestle out of them.

"_Ema,"_ he breathed, lifting her face again.

"Ema!" Deston said a in a much steadier voice, suddenly there, holding a hand to her head. "Em, can you hear me? Answer me, baby!"

"Get everyone out on that highway!" Raoul shouted from behind them. "Advise them to keep an eye out for anyone in a car. Sloan's bound to be around here somewhere. _Find him!_"

"Get the medics in here!" Seren yelled at the same time.

Klavier ran his hands over her body, his chest tightening at the rips in her clothes, wincing at the way her folded knees fell to the side. Every patch of skin he could see was marred with one injury or another and when the chains were cut and her arms fell, he pulled her hands to his mouth, kissing her cold fingers. The emotion and stress became too much and he pulled her limp body into his embrace, swallowing against the choking sensation at the back of his throat. Outside, the sirens diminished in volume as they sped in both directions, looking for the culprits.

"Ema," Klavier murmured into her hair, rocking her back and forth. "Ema…"

As if she'd heard him, she stirred. Klavier moved back to better look at her but, despite the small sound that escaped her throat, her eyes remained closed. One of her hands rose, her fingers fluttering against his cheek.

"Klavier…" she whispered.

"I am here," he said reassuringly, his voice cracking. "You're safe now…"

His relief at hearing her voice was short-lived – his eyes snapped to Deston's when Klavier heard his sharp intake of breath and followed the stormy look to Ema's wrist. Horror flooded through him and his mouth stumbled over curses when he saw a mutilation he had seen once before, seven years ago: the initials _R.R. _were burned deep into Ema's pale skin.

Aghast, he looked up at his friend, wanting to know how this could have happened, only to see the shock he felt reflected in Deston's haunted eyes.


	25. Honeyed Poison

Honeyed Poison

'.'

He's going to bathe your perfect skin

In your own filthy blood—

He's going to feed your mouth

Your own rotten fruit.

.'.

Klavier was stirred awake by movement beneath his fingers and he instantly lifted his head off the hospital bed, looking at Ema's fingers. His bloodshot eyes snapped to her sleeping face which remained disconcertingly serene.

"Ema?" he whispered.

When she didn't respond, disappointment crushed him when he realised he'd probably been dreaming again. He cursed his heart and mind for playing cruel tricks on him.

He leaned forward, tightening his hands around her cool fingers, closing his eyes as he kissed them. His entire being screamed for her to reply, to squeeze his finger and to show him that she could hear him. Klavier wanted her to wake up and scream at him, to call him a fop, to throw Snackoos at him for his soppiness and tell him that she was fine, that she loved him and she would never leave him…

Ever since he'd found her, Klavier had died over and over again, his fear slowly transforming to a throbbing ache; he needed to hear her voice again and bring him to life as only she could. She was his beginning and she was his end. He depended upon her – there could be an Ema Skye without a Klavier Gavin but there could never be a Klavier without Ema. He loved her. He needed her.

"_Please, Ema,"_ he said softly, his lips still pressed against her skin. "Please wake up…"

Suddenly, a hand fell on his shoulder but he didn't turn around; he didn't care enough to look. It could have been the Angel of Death and he wouldn't have given a damn. A thousand men wouldn't have been able to drag him away from her.

"You need to get some sleep, K," Deston said.

"I have slept enough."

"Go home," Deston said. "Get some sleep."

"I will not leave her," Klavier repeated for the millionth time.

"I'll stay."

"Stay then," Klavier said dully, raising his head and looking at Ema. "But so shall I."

Apparently realising he was fighting a losing battle, Deston sighed and pulled up a chair next to Klavier, before falling into it tiredly.

"Have you found Sloan?" Klavier asked.

"No," Deston said heavily. "I don't know how he got away. The doctors said the rohypnol was administered less than 10 minutes before we found her which means he – or anyone else – must have been in the vicinity when we entered the building but there's no trace of anyone."

Klavier said nothing.

"She's going to pull through, K," Deston said quietly. "Ema's tougher than we realise."

"Tell me something, Deston," Klavier said, turning slowly on his friend. "Why is it that rohypnol is still available after all of the effort the DEA put into banning it?"

The drummer rubbed his eyes wearily. "You know we're dealing with a crime ring, K."

"A crime ring that has thrice tried to kill Ema," Klavier said.

"I don't think they tried to kill her this time."

"Do you require more evidence than the possible threat of Ema falling into a coma?" Klavier said icily and Deston flinched. "Perhaps more than the fact that she shows clear signs of torture and has been mutilated the same way that Raina was?"

The air thickened with tension and anger as both friends sat in stony silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Klavier saw Deston's knuckles tighten around a folder, the skin stretching until it was white. He felt a pang of guilt.

"I am sorry, Des," Klavier sighed. "That was out of order."

"I'm not pissed off at you, Klavier," said the Gavinner, not looking at him. "It's just—" He took a shaky breath and Klavier finally turned to look at his friend; the man was looked mentally and physically exhausted. "After all these years, I finally know who's behind her murder… I know who I need to take down and I don't really know how to deal with that shit without taking the bastard by the throat and ripping his innards out."

"We will take them down, Des. All of us," Klavier reassured him. "I have made up my mind." Deston looked at Klavier whose mouth was set in a grim smile. "I am bringing Rafael's execution date forward."

"What…?"

"He is no good to us. Alive he is nothing but a danger." Klavier's eyes flashed. "And if I am able to do this, he will not be expecting it and any possible attempts to escape…"

"…will go to hell," Deston finished with a dark laugh. "It's perfect."

"And then we will move on to destroying the work he has spent his life building," Klavier said menacingly, seeing Rafael's demonic face before his eyes. "I will tear it all apart until there is nothing left of his memory except the banner of failure."

Something was taking hold of him, something cold and powerful that he had never felt before. He turned his gaze to Deston sideways, wondering if his friend had heard the disturbing tone of his voice but found his own intense hatred reflected in the other's face and when he spoke, his voice was laced with the same darkness.

"Speaking of failure," Deston said. "I bring you testament to his stupidity." Klavier glanced down at the folder he was holding out.

"What is it?"

A smile of deep satisfaction flowered on Deston's haggard face. "The key to destroying this crime ring once and for all." Doubt flickered through Klavier as he wondered how Deston could have acquired such a weapon. His friend laughed at his expression. "Rafael has branched out too far – and caught the attention of too many departments."

Klavier frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I was doing a little digging into a colleague's extra-curricular activities when I came across an interesting little tid-bit about Raoul." Klavier cocked an eyebrow at Deston who ran a hand through his messy hair. "Seems I'm not the only one getting secretly getting promoted."

"Raoul was promoted?"

"Yeah. According to the grapevine, he's been doing some extra work for the Office of International Operations as well as the Criminal Investigative Division," he smiled with amusement, "following Rafael's drug, slave and organ trafficking."

Klavier's body straightened with surprise. "Raoul is after Rainsford too?"

Deston smirked. "Not only is he after Rafael, he's been hiding the biggest weapon of all. In here," he flicked a hand at the folder in his lap, "I found evidence of a witness protection programme that he initiated…" Deston's grin widened, "…for one, Kade Richards."

Klavier felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water on him and then tried to set him on fire. The shock rendered him speechless for a moment before he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "I was informed Kade _died_—"

"Of cyanide poisoning?" Deston said, quirking an eyebrow. "No. He was injected with pyrarodotoxin – a chemical that induces death," he explained seeing Klavier's confused expression.

"Kade Richards is alive?"

Deston nodded. "Seren took him abroad. Yeah, I know," he said, rolling his eyes when he saw Klavier's look. "I guess Seren and Raoul were a little sour that we don't tell them everything and decided to start keeping things from us."

The prosecutor didn't hear him – there was a roaring in his ears that was deafening him and he turned fiercely triumphant eyes on Ema, squeezing her hand again. _I have found a way to make him pay, Ema, _he thought. _I will turn him inside out with crippling rage for what he did to you._

"Apparently, Raoul and Seren also have some rather interesting information that Kade gathered on Rafael's little gang," Deston continued.

Klavier turned to look at him sharply. "Was there a journal?"

His friend looked a little taken aback. "Yeah, actually, there was."

"I want it," Klavier said bluntly. "Tell Adagio to have it to me as soon as he can and if he tries to pull any of that jurisdiction shit, tell him—"

Deston was laughing. "I already have it, K. It was a wrench getting it off him but I worked my way around the stubborn bastard. I think that we need to sit down and have a talk. We're all after the same thing so it only makes sense to work together."

Klavier was about to respond, affirming the wisdom of his suggestion, when the unthinkable happened, something that made him believe in the mercy and goodness of life – Ema's fingers curled around his.

He turned his neck so fast that there was a loud _crick! _but he barely noticed. His blue eyes were on her twitching fingers and then her face where her lips were moving around an inaudible word.

"Ema?" he said, instantly rising to his feet and bending closer to her face. "Can you hear me?"

Her answer was to murmur incoherently.

"Get the doctor!" he shouted but Deston was already out of the door. "Ema," he breathed. "You are safe… I have you."

"_Klavier."_

His heart turned over at the sound of the desperation in her voice, the fear and the weariness.

"I'm going to have to ask you to step outside, gentlemen," said a female voice and Klavier glanced at the doctor to entered briskly, followed by her barrage of nurses.

"C'mon, K," Deston said, tugging on his arm.

"Doktor…" Klavier said pleadingly. "Please do everything you can."

"I will, Mr Gavin."

With Deston's voice in his ear, Klavier exited the room and every step he took hit him in the chest like a bullet until he fell against the wall outside. His shaking hands came up to cover his face and a small moan escaped him.

"C'mon, man," Deston said in a quiet voice. "Have faith. She's gonna be fine."

Klavier didn't answer. His mind was a mess of memories that only dragged him further into the bleak possibilities that lay before him. He thought of his mother, dead because she'd loved her children so much, of his father who hadn't loved anybody, of Kristoph who had discarded their honour and of himself, who had lost his family.

Then, unexpectedly, he thought of a man that he'd only met twice but now suddenly felt closer to him than anyone else; had Mia Fey felt this way when Diego Armando had been brought to the hospital? And then, quite suddenly, he knew that if he lost Ema today, he would be just as destroyed as Diego had been – if he lost Ema this night, he would fall too.

"Klavier," Deston said, shaking him. "I know what you're thinking but you're worrying for nothing. I've dealt with about a hundred thousand cases of rohypnol overdose and they nearly always pull through. The few that fall into coma are the ones who consume it with alcohol. Ema was injected with too much rohypnol but it was _pure_." He shook his head. "There's no trace of alcohol in her system. The doctor's just being cautious."

"I do not think the doctor would go to the extreme of saying she feared Ema could become comatose unless she—"

"Klavier, I'm telling you, man," Deston said solemnly, cutting across him. "Ema's going to pull through. The worst case scenario is she's going to suffer memory loss."

Klavier didn't say anything but only because he was too tired to argue with his friend. He wanted to tell Deston to stop trying to get his hopes up when this night might—

_No._

Klavier turned away from his friend and punched the wall, causing a few nurses walking by to look at him in surprise. He was gulping lungfuls of air, trying to steady his spinning head. _Ema cannot die_, he told himself. She couldn't die because he loved her and how could it happen to him again? Whatever higher power there was, it couldn't take Ema away from him too. She was the one woman who had come close to replacing the inimitable feeling of loss he carried inside every day…

So he waited, the reassurance like a droning mantra in his aching head while Deston paced nearby, only stopping every few minutes to look at him and make sure he hadn't broken into a thousand pieces. The patients, visitors and staff that passed the two didn't attempt to talk to either Gavinner, so clear was the intense look of anxiety on both their handsome faces. They walked on, some casting pitying looks and others, curiosity, wondering who was fortunate enough to have the attention of both these men and whether the patient they worried over wasn't another Gavinner…

The door opened and Klavier rounded instantly on the doctor who's stressed face nearly stopped his heart but then she smiled with relief at both of them. "She's out of the woods. The drug hasn't worn off completely but when it does she might not remember much of what happened and she'll probably be a bit drowsy. For the most part, she's fine."

At last the heaviness disappeared from inside him, so suddenly that it was almost painful. The oxygen that he'd been drinking finally filled his lungs deeply as it should have and he laughed, shakily, grabbing the doctor's hands and kissing them for their service.

"Thank you!" he sang. "Thank you, Fräulein Doktor! Thank you!"

A slight blush crept over her neck and when she spoke it was in a very flustered manner. "Yes – well – that's – it's my job."

"May we see her?" Deston asked, sighing with relief.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no," the woman said, suddenly stern. "You've been here since she was brought in. She needs her rest and so do the both of you. Normal visiting hours apply now."

"Please doctor," Klavier implored. "Just for one minute – no wait, thirty seconds. You may even time me. I just want to see her face."

The doctor struggled with herself for a moment and then gave an exasperated nod. "Just a moment, though."

Klavier was already past her, throwing the door open and staring at Ema who was still asleep, and though she was physically unchanged, she suddenly seemed more at peace, less restless… less in danger…

There was a sense of amazed reverence for her strength and his heart swelled with pride. He felt a stab of shame for ever doubting that she would pull through, that she would leave him…

And suddenly, just the sight of her was more than enough and he didn't even mind when the doctor told them to step out and to go home because it meant that Ema really and truly was going to be okay and that he would look into her eyes again, he would see her smile again, he would hear her voice again…

And he would have the chance to be with her again.

"So, K," Deston said, slapping him on the back as they headed for his car through the parking lot. "What next?"

Klavier looked at Deston, asking himself the same question and the answer came to him almost instantly; it was reflected in his friend's face and in the memory of Simon and what he had lost.

The bandaged burn on Ema's wrist made one thing clear to all of them – that Rafael had somehow been tied to Raina's death because her body had been severely branded the same way. Deston had lost the love of his life to Rafael, Simon had lost Gale and Klavier had almost lost Ema. He suddenly felt closer to Deston and Simon than he ever had before.

So when the question was posed, Klavier needed little time to answer.

Leaning against the roof of his car and staring at his friend, he smiled coldly. Deston's victorious expression told him his friend had read the decision in his face – they were both thinking the same thing.

"Now," he said in a voice raging with fire, "it is time for Rafael's reckoning."

* * *

"Sure," the warden said with a nod. "We've been expecting you."

Klavier was surprised. "You have?"

"Yeah. Rainsford said you'd be by to meet him."

"Rainsford knew Klavier was going to be here?" Deston said, pushing himself away from the wall where he was leaning. "How the hell did he know that?"

"Beats me, gents," the warden replied, shrugging. "One of the guards said he asked me to confirm it."

"You've lost me, Warden," Deston said, shaking his head. "Start from the beginning."

The short man scowled. "It's not that difficult to understand, boy. Rainsford said, to one of the guards, that he was expecting him—" he pointed at Klavier "—and that I was meant to confirm it. In other words, I was supposed to know about this visit. I didn't so I told him not to get his hopes up."

Klavier frowned, still confused, and looked at Deston who shrugged. Together, they watched the warden lock his office door. Then, he gestured for the two men to follow him. Unperturbed by the warden's strange revelation, they smirked at each other, anticipation giving their steps speed.

The first and last time Klavier had visited Rafael, the crime lord had caught him off-guard with his casual behaviour, his manipulation of Klavier's feelings and his unexpected knowledge of Klavier from his brother. The young prosecutor had walked out of the cell with a horrible taste in his mouth and consternation running through him.

But this time, the tables had turned.

Klavier was going back into the lion's den armed with ammunition more powerful than anything the animal possessed – he had the power of truth on his side. It was a truth that would wipe that smirk off his face and shake his confidence. But this time, Klavier was using a darker weapon – he was going to combine the truth with its antithesis so that when he revealed his deception, it would hurt all the more. Criminals like Rafael deserved no more and no less.

"You armed?" the warden asked suddenly as they stopped before a large metal door, glancing at Klavier.

"Why?"

"If you're gonna step past them bars, you should be," the man warned. "Rainsford isn't happy with you, I should imagine."

"In that case…" Both Gavinners suddenly waved their guns in his face and Klavier gave a sly smile. "Would this suffice?"

"Celebrities," the man muttered irately before turning around and swiping a card through the electronic device next to the door. A small beep ensued and he pushed the door open, gesturing for them to go inside. "Knock on the door when you're done. Here's the key to the cell."

"Are you afraid to come inside, Warden?" Deston teased, taking the key.

"What do ya take me for, kid?"

"Just kidding, pops," Deston said with a grin.

Klavier ignored them, moving past and pushing the door open. There was no hesitancy in his walk now – only confidence. With every step he took closer to Ema's attacker, his countenance turned black. When he held the door open for Deston, his friend handed him a little book that was wedged with sheets, thickened beyond its normal size and he took it in his hand, gratified by the weight of it in his hand.

"Ready to fill the big bad wolf with stones?"

"Ja," Klavier said, nodding slowly. "I am."

Both of them turned together and walked down the narrow passage together, every footstep bringing them closer to their personal revenge. Blue and gray eyes burned with a deepening hatred which swirled around a determination that today would mark the beginning of the end.

Klavier entered the room and he turned slowly towards Rafael who stood in the shadows, his back to them. As Deston came to a stop beside Klavier, his fingers ran smoothly over the sheet of paper in his hand but the sound didn't seem to attract Rafael's attention. He stood still, tall and dominant. The prosecutor surveyed him calmly, taking in the feet spread apart confidently, giving support to a straight, strong back. Curled fists fell from powerful, broad shoulders resting beneath a raised head of dark hair. Now he understood Rafael's cocky behaviour, the blatant disregard he'd shown for the impending death sentence. Anybody would have laughed if he knew he was going to escape the confines he had allowed the establishment to believe trapped him.

Klavier couldn't help but smirk at Deston sideways who was examining Rafael too.

"So you're finally here, Mr Gavin," Rafael said suddenly, his voice soft. "I confess I was becoming impatient."

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting, Herr Rainsford," Klavier replied mockingly.

Rafael's back stiffened but a moment later, when Rafael turned around, he was sure he'd imagined the reaction. The man's handsome face was as genial as always and there was an amused smile on his lips as his electric blue eyes fell on the prosecutor.

"Ah," was all he said.

"It has been a while since our last meeting," Klavier said, gesturing towards the bars that separated them. "How are you enjoying your new lodgings?"

Rafael's arms came to fold over his chest and Klavier thought he saw the man's eyes flash. "They're incredible, Klavier." He took a few slow, deliberate steps forwards, before suddenly smiling at the other Gavinner. "Ah. This must be Deston. Deston Cavatin."

Klavier threw his friend a sharp look, momentarily anxious that he might lose his cool – Deston's earlier threat came back to him and his need for vengeance had made Klavier uncertain about the wisdom of letting him come. Of course, Deston had insisted on being here and the blond had known that denying him that was not an option. He need not have worried though; Deston was relaxed and smiling at Rafael like he was finally meeting someone he'd heart a lot about.

"Rafael Rainsford," Deston said pleasantly. "How're you doing?"

Rafael flashed a perfect smile at him. "Quite fine, thank you."

"Glad to hear it," Deston said with a nod. "I've brought you a little gift. My Mama always taught me it was good manners to bring a housewarming present."

This time, Klavier was sure of it – there was a definite anger lurking behind Rafael's façade. By moving him to another cell and cutting off his contact, Klavier had obviously messed with Rafael's plans… and their arrogant visit was doing little to improve his mood.

"Your… _Mama_ sounds like a lovely woman," Rafael said silkily. "I should like to meet her some day."

"Oh you'll meet her soon," Deston said with dark amusement and Klavier chuckled inwardly – Mrs Cavatin had died two years ago.

"The key," Klavier said, extending a hand to his friend while keeping his gaze fixed on Rafael. "Step away from the door, Herr Rainsford."

Rafael didn't move for a while and the silence that followed seemed to thicken with questions, games, double entrendes and disgust. He stared at the young men intently as if he was trying to read them but the Gavinners kept their faces devoid of all expression except for a glimmer of derisive amusement. Rafael seemed to understand because he flashed them another smile and stepped backwards, gesturing lazily towards the door. Klavier unlocked it and threw a glance back at Deston who was still watching Rafael cautiously. He knew that his friend had his back.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, gentlemen?" Rafael said.

Klavier smiled, gesturing for Deston to come lock the door. "I am sure you remember my reason for visiting you last time."

"Sure," Rafael said, sitting down on his bed and leaning against the wall comfortably. "You were seeking justice for the lovely Gale."

Klavier's insides tightened. "Indeed. You see, Rafael, I have come to learn much about this entire case – even more so, than you."

Rafael smiled patronisingly. "How impressive."

Klavier nodded. "I have so much to tell you, Herr Rainsford, I am not entirely sure where to begin. Perhaps I could address your attempted murder of one of my detectives."

Rafael waved a hand invitingly. "Please do."

"Ema Skye is alive and well," Klavier continued, the tenor of his voice dropping several degrees below zero. "She has survived last night's attempt."

Rafael's interest seemed piqued because he raised his face and cocked his head. "She survived last night's attempt, did she?"

"That is correct. I am sure you are surprised to hear it."

The corner of Rafael's mouth lifted. "You're right, Klavier. I _am_ surprised to hear it. Did you figure out why I wanted her dead?"

"That's obvious," Deston snorted. "Trying to warn me off by trying to kill her? How clichéd can you get, Rainsford? A shadow organisation of your calibre and you're using century old tactics."

Rafael looked suspiciously close to laughing. "And what evidence do you have of any of this?"

"She was burnt," Deston hissed, moving forward and pointing to his wrist. "She was branded with your initials just like—" He broke off but Klavier paid no attention. Everything in him was focused on Rafael whose smile had vanished and a slight frown had grown between his eyes.

_He's disturbed, _Klavier thought. _Good._

"It's blatantly obvious you were behind it," Deston went on. "But we're not here to squeeze a confession out of you. We don't need it."

"No," Klavier agreed. "We do not."

"This Ema Skye," Rafael said, leaning forward and staring at Deston. "She means quite a bit to you, doesn't she, Deston?"

"Yeah, she does. And you're not going to harm another hair on her head."

"Does she mean as much as Raina did?"

Klavier whipped around then, afraid that the carefully constructed sentence would push Deston over the edge but his friend was still in his spot, frozen and the only difference was that he was glaring at Rainsford hatefully, as if he wanted nothing more than to leap across the room and throttle the man. Satisfied that Deston was in control of himself, Klavier faced Rafael, ready for the revenge that he had planned with Simon, Gale and David. The burning sensation inside of him was only bearable because of the belief that he would soon push Rafael over the edge in the same way.

"I have some good news for you, Herr Rainsford," Klavier said casually.

"I'm all aquiver with excitement, Klavier," Rafael said with a small laugh.

Klavier smiled and extracted the diary from under his arm, waving in around in the air. "This is Gale's diary."

"Tsk. It's rude to read a lady's private thoughts, Klavier." The prosecutor tried to ignore the mocking way Rafael kept repeating his name.

"Imagine that, coming from you," Deston said sarcastically.

"Well, Rafael," the prosecutor said with a sigh. "Let me ask you this: how did you feel about Kade's death?"

Rafael's eyes sparkled. "What can I say, Klavier? He was good at what he did. I'm going to miss his efficiency."

"Then it would please you to hear that he is not dead after all?"

Rafael regarded him stoically. "I'm not surprised, I suppose. He's too clever to be poisoned."

"That is true. He is in witness protection."

Rafael leaned forward and entwined his fingers, resting his elbows on his knees and smiling up at Klavier. "Who does he have to hide from?"

The blond feigned surprise. "Why, you of course, Herr Rainsford. Who else?" Though there was no change in Rafael's expression, he didn't reply and Klavier hooked a thumb in his belt cockily.

"I don't think he's hiding out of fear though," Deston continued, stepping closer to the cell. "He probably just doesn't want all of his work to be for nothing. I doubt he could bear the thought."

"Especially when his good friend, Gale, sacrificed herself so that he could gain your trust," Klavier said with a smile. "I mean, it would be a shame upon his head to fail when she has – quite literally – trusted him with her life."

Klavier had known the man wouldn't be so easy to break so he stared at him, not the slightest bit disconcerted when Rafael threw his head back and laughed heartily. "Ah, I get it now boys. But see, Kade's betrayal doesn't hurt me. None of it makes any difference."

"Ah but there's where you're wrong, Rainsford," Deston said with equal enjoyment. "If it's true that Miss Sanders consented to being murdered…"

"…then you have been wrongfully tried," Klavier finished, crossing his arms. "This new information would cement the ground for an appeal and a possible release from prison. You would no longer be facing the death penalty."

Rafael's smile didn't falter. "Like I said, it makes no difference, Klavier. If what you're saying is even true – which, no doubt, it is – then…" he trailed off as Klavier moved backwards and handed the diary to Deston through the bars who flipped it open and perused its contents leisurely.

"_22__nd__ March 2023,"_ he read aloud and Klavier scrutinised Rafael's patient expression waiting for the moment it would begin to transform, when it would reflect the ugliness within. _"Kade said Rafael was planning on approaching me in a few weeks. Knowing Rafael, he'll do it in a month or two – he likes to play it cool, he doesn't want to show anyone he's desperate." _Here, Klavier saw the first sign of Rafael's composure collapsing; the man's eyes darkened as if the words had insulted him._ "Too bad for him…" _Klavier laughed inwardly at the mocking smile he heard in Deston's voice,_ "I'm two steps ahead. I'll make sure he suffers, the only way he knows how. He may gain the satisfaction of killing me but he'll never have the satisfaction of hurting anyone else." _There was a pause and the sound of the book snapping shut._ "Not after this."_

"As you can see, Herr Rainsford, we are not _bluffing_. It is not in our job description to speak foul lies – it is our job to uncover them."

"Tell me something," Rafael said, leaning back and casually rubbing his thighs. "Where did you get such impressive morals from? Your parents?"

"We did," Klavier confirmed. "No doubt it will come as shock to you that parents can actually be guiding forces in their children's lives."

"Wasn't it morals that got your mother killed, Klavier?"

The words knocked him breathless and his fists clenched as the muscles in his neck and shoulders tightened. How did Rafael know…? Suddenly, the icy breath of betrayal sent a shiver down his spine as his eyes narrowed.

_Kristoph. _

_WHY? Why would Kristoph tell Rafael that? How much does Rafael know? And what purpose does he hold?_ The thoughts spun through his mind like a sickening merry-go-round and he almost heard the laughter, nasty, jeering… His brother's betrayal stung him sharper than anything had in a long time.

Before he could lose the tenuous grip on his control, several faces flew before Klavier's eyes: Deston, still tortured over Raina's death; Gale, dead; Simon, dying a new death every day; David, always living with the painful knowledge of his brother's hatred; Lana, living without her father; Ema, unconscious in a hospital bed.

He took a deep breath through slightly parted lips and unclenched his hands, reminding himself that losing his calm is exactly what Rafael was aiming to do but he wouldn't give in to it. Today, everything was going to go his way. There were going to be no mind games, no manipulations except on his part. This moment was not just his – it was all of theirs – and he wasn't going to mess it up.

"Gale is dead by her design," Klavier went on, gratified when he saw Rafael's eyes dim, obviously displeased at the ineffectiveness of his words. "Kade has been working against you since before her death and is currently under our protection."

"And guess what Rainsford?" Deston said in a voice that dropped all pretence of geniality. "We have enough information under our belts to bring your entire ring crashing down – which is exactly what we're going to do."

"That's a mighty big ambition," Rafael said, tilting his head back. "You'll find yourself in for a little shock, Deston."

"And your execution date is not too far away," Klavier said as if Rafael hadn't spoken. "It is a shame," he smiled, " that you are restricted from seeing anybody otherwise I am sure you would have hired a lawyer to represent you in court with this newfound information."

"Well, Klavier," Rafael said, turning his attention to his nails the same way he had on their first meeting, "I don't really care for courts and their procedures. They're so tiresome. I think I'll see this one out."

Behind him, Klavier heard Deston snort derisively. "You _will _see this one out, Rainsford. Whatever little plan you concocted to escape isn't going to work."

There was another slip in the carefully constructed mask Rafael donned and Klavier saw his displeasure; he wasn't happy that they had seen past his deception. Still, the smile came back up and the prosecutor's eyes tightened in annoyance at the way Rafael kept bouncing back, carefree, from every revelation. But then, his own smile widened when he remembered the little sheet Deston held that would begin to crumble Rafael's confidence at last. With swift assurance, Klavier moved backwards, keeping his gaze fixed on Rafael while gesturing for Deston to hand him the document. Rafael watched them attentively, his calculating eyes on the exchange.

"Is that my housewarming present?" he asked in a voice filled with mirth.

"You can thank Deston," Klavier said with a grin, handing Rafael the piece of paper.

"It's no big deal," the other Gavinner said modestly. "After all that you've done, it was pretty easy having your execution date moved forward."

Rafael's fingers were loose on the sheet and Klavier saw the man's face tauten for a moment as they ran over the date change, the words that certified his impending death. A rush of satisfaction drew a smile from Klavier when he realised he was less than 48 hours away from ridding this world of Rafael, from completing Gale's primary focus in her task.

"This is an interesting turn of events," Rafael said softly and for a moment he looked as if he was ready to rip the paper to shreds. But then he laid it aside and looked at Klavier apathetically. "The problem with this little plan, Klavier," he waved a hand toward the paper indifferently, "is that even if you manage to get rid of me, it's only because circumstances favoured you. It won't be so easy to take down what I've built."

"You mean it won't be easy to catch your daughter?" Deston scoffed, drawing Rafael's attention. "We'll see about that."

"Herr Rainsford," Klavier intervened before the man could say anything else. "I have one last piece of news I feel I must share with you."

"I wait with baited breath, Klavier."

"I searched for your brother because I wished to keep him safe until you were good and gone." Klavier placed a hand on his hip, close to the weapon tucked in his waistband; Rafael's face had morphed into an expression antagonism. "Would you like to know what I found?"

Rafael rose to his feet slowly and a wave of déjà vue passed over Klavier: there was that feeling again, as if the cell had somehow shrunk to a tiny space that could barely contain them. Rafael's mask fell away entirely and gone was the sometimes aloof and sometimes charming exterior. Klavier had been right – his one and only weakness was David and David was the way to exact revenge for all of them. He'd received Gale's blessing for this plan and her judgement had proved to be right. Rafael was going to die the worst way possible and Klavier was going to make sure of it.

"_Where_… is David?" Rafael asked chillingly.

Klavier smiled as a dark supremacy rushed through him. He hated himself for it, hated how good it felt to stand here with this power coursing through him; the truth had shielded him from all corruption but the truth was not enough this time. He had needed its enemy and so it wrapped itself around him, flowing through his bloodstream and turning him, momentarily, into everything that he had despised for so long.

"I found David Rainsford," he said, each word deliberate and slow. "I regret to inform you that your brother… is dead."

Klavier had been expecting it – Rafael's need to murder David personally had long since become blatant and he had known that the words would push the older man into the instability that blanketed his mind. He watched with relish as Rafael's facade fell away completely and his true face came to the fore, marred and deformed by viciousness and cruelty. His mouth twisted into a snarl, his eyes flashed with intent and then he moved with lightning speed.

Within seconds the tense tableau had erupted into one of violence; everything slowed down for Klavier and his fingers had already slipped around the handle of his gun. The air whistled with the swiftness of his reaction as his arm rose through the air… the end of the barrel kissed Rafael's forehead as the gun cocked warningly. Out of the corner of his eye, Klavier saw Deston move closer to the bars of the cell, his own weapon trained steadily on Rafael who was breathing heavily and staring at Klavier with murder in his eyes.

"Give us a reason," Deston whispered the dark invitation.

Rafael didn't look at him – he was still scanning Klavier, madness raging in his features and then, unexpectedly, it faded away almost instantly. He turned stony, as if not from fear but from mere curiosity as if they were in a game of chess and he waited for them to make their move. His blue eyes flickered back and forth between the two armed men and one corner of his lips curled up, not quite into a smile, but close enough.

"Herr Rainsford," Klavier said in a formal voice. "Your reason for existing has turned to ash. Your brother is dead. Your organisation will fall." He stepped away his gun still aimed at the other man's forehead. "And in less than two days, you will die."

"Maybe," Rafael said, openly smiling now, the veneer of calm back in place and Klavier suddenly had a feeling that the bastard was pleased, as if he'd seen something in their faces that delighted him. "But when I die, I'll take your souls with me."

And then Rafael did something that Klavier had not been expecting, something that foreshadowed an event which would haunt him till the end of his days and wake him, drenched in sweat, from terrifying nightmares:

He laughed.


	26. His Equal

His Equal

'.'

You may leave but you're not gone,

You're in my breath from dusk to dawn.

And this heartache you left me with

Will forever echo of the myth—

That once...

A sylph like you came along,

Became the lyrics to my song,

Turning betrayal into an art,

As you slowly murdered my foolish heart.

.'.

"URGH!" Ema cried, face-palming. "I hate you all!"

The Gavinners around her were too busy laughing at her plight to hear what she was saying. Raoul turned from where he was examining Klavier's enormous stereo system.

"That reminds me, Ema," he said in a devilish tone. "Ya see the tattoo Gavin got in your honour?"

Ema's horrified eyes peeked out from in between her fingers as she turned on the smiling Klavier. "YOU DIDN'T!"

"He did," Raoul said with a smirk before his friend could speak. "Right on his—"

"Alright, alright!" Deston interrupted while Ema squealed, wrapping her arms around her head in an attempt to block out Raoul's voice. The pain the action caused her took a back seat to the humiliation she was suffering. Klavier and Seren were roaring with laughter again. "He's just messing around, Ema." He paused and turned twinkling eyes on Klavier where he sat by Ema on the sofa. "Unless…?"

She growled again and Klavier gathered her into a hug. "Ignore them, liebling," he said. "Their relief has unhinged them."

Before Ema could respond, the rest of the boys started to whistle and hoot while pointing out how cute they looked together. Cross and unable to do much more than throw a tantrum, the recently discharged detective pulled away and stared at them irately. When they continued to laugh and meet her ferocious glare with their teasing eyes, the young detective couldn't help but smile, so touched was she by their display of (as Klavier called it) relief. She could understand Deston's reaction — he was her friend — but Raoul and Seren had hardly spoken to her yet they'd gone out of their way to make sure she'd been found safe and had been visibly relieved when she woke up. There was no doubt in her mind that she owed these men her life.

Ignoring the fact that she was openly smiling to their crazy behaviour now, Ema observed all of them. She had never imagined, when she first saw the Gavinners rise to fame, that beneath their flashy clothes, their charming smiles and cocky behaviour lay such intense devotion to their work and to each other. It was obvious to her that they had done what they did for Klavier's sake (except for Deston, who she knew cared about her). When she had regained consciousness, it hadn't just been Klavier sitting by her side but the rest of them too. Her surprise had been great when, along with Deston and Klavier, Raoul and Seren had been there as well (which she was sure exceeded the number of visitors allowed). Their cheer had captured her notice and she had been so uncharacteristically moved by it that all of a sudden, fop took on a whole new meaning for her; it became a term of affection more than anything else (except for when they were making her life hell by teasing her to no end, at which point they became idiotic fops again).

She glanced at Klavier who was pressed against her slightly and had his arm draped around her shoulders. Though it only fuelled his friends and their banter, she didn't want him to move away – every part of her needed his nearness, his solid presence. Having him around helped her to remain normal and only he could take her mind off the things she didn't want to think about.

"Are you alright?" he murmured so that nobody but she heard it. She glanced away quickly, not wanting to meet the intensity of his attention. He touched her hair gently, running his hands through it but she didn't look at him, her eyes downcast.

Ema's head was still heavy, as if someone had filled it with lead, and her body ached. On the first opportunity, she had examined herself and had been sickened by the bruises that coloured her body. Her first thought had been that Klavier would be revolted by her and this belief had made her cringe when he stared at her for too long. It wasn't until she saw the heat of his gaze in spite of the blotches of purple that she had felt warm and comforted… And she hadn't thought about it since.

_That's a lie and you know it._

Okay, she couldn't deny that she had thought about it but it had just crossed her mind here and there. The way Klavier kept drawing his fingers softly over her wounds made it obvious he wasn't repulsed by them. No, he'd quickly got rid of her insecurity without having to say anything.

What she really thought about was the source of these violations; how had she got sustained them? She frowned as she had so many times since waking up and realising there was a blank in the last three days. No matter how she tried, Ema couldn't cut through hazy memories of pain and a dark feeling of merinthophobia.

She cast a glance at her wrist. Though she hadn't seen it, Klavier had told her she'd been burnt and though she hadn't noticed it initially, there had been a definite vagueness to it. It was when he'd told her, and Deston had quietly exited the room, that Ema sensed something out of place. The way Klavier had stared at his friend's retreating back with sadness had told her there was something wrong but she hadn't asked – her instinct had warned her against it.

"Stop rubbing it, Ema." Klavier's gentle voice was in her ear and she looked at him, snapped out of her reverie, when he pried her fingers from her bandaged wrist. "You will aggravate it." She cocked her head at him and his electric blue gaze rose to meet hers…

And the world shifted.

Ema had no idea if she moved at all but there was a sudden silence filling her ears as he stared deep into her eyes. His arms were suddenly around her and they were encasing her in another world, a place she'd never before seen: it was fresh and pure and full of promises she hadn't expected. Ema felt like she had been apart from him forever and was seeing for the first time after an eternity of waiting. The darkness that had shrouded her since she'd opened her eyes was pushed back and the weight shifted off her shoulders.

Against her will, her mouth lifted in a smile. Her chest seemed to expand and she sighed at the pleasure that rippled through her upon seeing his grin — it grew on his face till its dazzling beauty reached his eyes…

And then a fop struck.

"Reckon we should go guys?" Ema blinked, taken aback by Seren's voice suddenly cutting into her thoughts. He was smiling at them knowingly. "I think the lovebirds—"

"Do not annoy the Fräulein, Seren," Klavier said, putting a finger to her lips when she opened them to make an angry retort. "I do believe she has earned a rest from all this—" he waved a hand in their general direction as if at a loss for an appropriate word.

"Glimmerous foppishness," Ema offered with a pout.

"Ja," Klavier agreed with a nod.

"I don't know why you're acting like you're exempt, Gavin," Raoul snorted. "You're the fop-king!"

Klavier turned to Ema again, as if he was waiting on her to confirm it but she pointed at Raoul with an accusing finger. "I dub thee, King Fop!"

Raoul's reaction was to smirk when the others exploded into laughter again and Klavier squeezed her in a light hug. "That is loyalty!" he exclaimed. "She will—"

"Whatever, fop-face," Ema cut across him with an incredulous laugh. "I just made him king! You're still a fop!"

"Man, she ripped into you!" Seren pointed at Klavier in a manner highly reminiscent of Daryan and for a split second she worried that he would see the same similarity. But then he laughed with a sheepish nod and she exhaled discreetly knowing that he must have been so used to Seren's behaviour that he hardly noticed the likeness.

Ema turned to see Deston, wondering why he hadn't spoken up yet given his impish nature and discovered that a weariness weighed down his features. He was staring intently at the bandage on her wrist and she was struck by the swirling darkness brewing in the silver pools of his stare. A glance at Klavier drew his attention to the drummer along with Raoul and Seren's. Three pairs of eyes followed Deston's to her wrist and she felt dark clouds loom over the silence.

Raoul clapped Deston on the back who started. "You ready to go?" he said in a casual voice. "Gotta get ready for the big event tomorrow."

Deston seemed not to have registered his words: he blinked blankly before nodding slowly and standing up. He turned a forced smile on the detective. "I'm so glad you're okay, Em."

The sorrow she saw in his eyes made no sense to her but there was little need to understand; all she cared about was the way it tugged on the affection she felt for her friend. She rose to her feet, somewhat unsteady because of the dizziness she still experienced. Klavier stood with her, placing a hand at her back but she ignored him, approaching Deston. When he reached out to take her by the arm, she didn't hesitate: she pulled him into a warm hug.

Deston chuckled, embracing her and running a caring hand over her hair and down her back. "You okay, Em?"

"Thanks, Deston," she whispered.

He pulled back to look at her, a little puzzled. The detective didn't elaborate – how could she explain to him that she was upset because he was without sounding like an idiot? As much as she wanted to tell him that the thank you was for everything, she couldn't do it right now, especially not in front of his friends. Searching his face, Ema wished she knew the cause for his sadness so that she could do something – anything – to help him.

"We better go, Des," Seren said with a cheeky smile. "Stay any longer and Klavier's gonna think you're trying to steal Ema."

"Hey man," Deston threw his hands up, backing away from Ema, while looking at Klavier with mock wariness. "I don't want to provoke a psychotic—"

"Achtung!" Klavier laughed. "Get out of my home, ja?"

Ema watched with amused exasperation when Raoul reached up to flick the hoop in his ear. _"Arrivedercci, bellissima."_

Klavier kept his arm around her as they saw their boisterous friends out. She waved at them as they slipped inside Raoul's car with the exception of Deston who favoured his motorbike over the car. When he kicked it to life, he glanced at Ema for a moment; she stared back at him, confused by the grim determination in his eyes.

_What is he thinking?_

Then he smiled at her, his hand curled around the handle of his bike and it roared his exit – within moments he was gone, leaving her distressed at her uselessness as a friend.

"Come," Klavier said, closing the door. "You need your rest, _mein liebe_."

"And you need to chill, ja?"

Klavier laughed softly at her remark but took her by the waist and led her out of the room they'd been lounging in. She looked at him quizzically, uncertain as to where he was taking her, but he was focusing ahead and she found herself drawn to studying his profile.

How was it that she hadn't noticed how masculine he was? The angular jaw, the chiselled contours of his face and the deep, deep eyes… Her scrutiny travelled down his neck, so lean and strong where it gave way to broad shoulders. His shirt hung open and she could see his collar bone, jutting out under taut, tanned skin.

_What does his skin feel like?_

"You ask for trouble when you look at me that way," Klavier murmured suddenly.

Ema blushed, quickly averting her eyes. "What way?"

"And then that blush!" he sighed, tightening his grip on her.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, hurriedly changing the subject.

"To your bedroom."

Ema's eyes widened. "M–My bedroom?"

Klavier looked at her sideways with a sly smile. "Ja, Fräulein. You need to sleep."

She halted. The idea of him watching her while she got into bed and fell asleep was too much. Klavier stopped with her and she attempted a glare up at him. "I'm not sleepy," she said.

"Then you will rest and I shall keep you company."

"I can rest where we were! We don't need to go to any b-bedroom," she stammered, flustered. "Besides, it's only 2 in the afternoon! I don't want to go to bed."

Klavier's mouth twitched. "Ema, I am not intending to — what is the expression?" he paused to think. "Ah, yes. I am not intending to _jump your bones_." His eyes clouded over as his smile turned seductive. "At least, not yet."

The heat in her cheeks flared and she looked away quickly, too overwhelmed by his presence. Why did he have to be so damn irresistible? Why was the nearness of him so potent and why was he turning on the charm? And… not yet? W-Wait! What did he…?

Suddenly, he made a low sound in his throat and, before she could look at him, her world was uprooted when he lifted her into his arms. Her sharp intake of breath was muffled as firm but soft lips covered hers in a gentle kiss, ordering her confusion to give way to tingling sensations and lightning jolts that heated her skin. Without thinking about how sudden it was, her tired arms came to rest around his neck and she kissed him back with equal need. All of her troubles and fears dissolved under the command of his mouth as it rubbed against hers, pulling her lips into its dizzying confines.

"Ema…"

The whispered sound of her name sent a shiver running down her spine. He wasn't moving his lips from hers and every time he spoke, every fibre in her body crackled with response.

"You undo me every time I look at you," he murmured.

Ema's answer was to bite her lip and look away. What could she say? It wasn't in her nature to be poetic — she didn't even know how to. That was his forte. She glanced at Klavier to see if he was expecting a reply but he only smiled at her before walking towards a winding staircase. "You can put me down," she said timidly.

Klavier chuckled without stopping. "Though I have longed to kiss you, my intention was to carry you upstairs."

Ema's eyes widened as she glanced between him and the ascension before them. "Are you mad?" she cried. "I'm too heavy! Put me down!"

"Nein, Ema," Klavier said, beginning his climb. "You hardly weigh a stone."

Ema glared him, annoyed that she couldn't kick around for fear of toppling them both over. "Alright. I get it. You're a macho beast!" Klavier laughed. "Now, put. Me. Down! I can walk up the stairs perfectly fine on my—"

"You have admitted in the presence of three witnesses — not including myself — that you still suffer from bouts of dizziness. That is not to mention the warning I received from the Fräulein Doktor. As this state usually entails instability and loss of balance, an uneven ground would certainly be precarious. Therefore, I must conclude that you are far from able to walk 'perfectly fine', ja?"

He thought he heard her mutter something about lawyers. She glowered at him. "You could catch me!"

"Why take the chance when I can aid you thus?"

"Because you'll get tired!"

Klavier looked at her with a gentle smile. "I could never tire of holding you, Ema."

The intimacy of his claim hit her like lightning and she blushed again. Not trusting herself, Ema chose not to respond. Instead, her eyes were fixed on the stairs as they slowly ascended and she became more and more aware of her waist and hips pressed against his hard abdomen, the way that his arms were curled around her back and under her legs.

"Are you alright?" Klavier asked. She nodded, avoiding his gaze, but he stopped mid-step. "Look at me."

"Why?"

"Ema." She looked at him more out of surprise at his stern tone than anything else and was curious when his serious expression melted into a relaxed one.

"What?" she asked when he shook his head and began the climb again.

"Nothing."

"Tell me," she insisted.

"I worried that you were in pain," he said simply.

"I'm not in pain, Klavier. I just feel sick and dizzy at random times."

_Maybe that wasn't the best reassurance I could have given him_, she thought when he visibly tensed. She lifted a hand from his shoulder and brushed it against his clenched jaw without thinking, as if she knew what he needed. Klavier looked at her, his muscles slacking with surprise.

She smiled. "You're a fusspot."

Klavier grinned. "Only when it comes to you."

Ema raised an eyebrow sceptically. "That's not true. You start whining if anything is less than perfect." She cocked a head as a sudden thought occurred to her, at once amusing and embarrassed. "Does that mean I'm far from perfect?"

Klavier turned around the landing and walked down a wide hallway. Ema barely noticed the colonial layout of her new residence and was not as impressed by his home as she might have been; her attention was on his face which was devoid of emotion except for one slightly raised eyebrow. She wondered at it but then he kicked a door open, turning sideways to get her through the frame, and she was distracted by what she assumed was her new bedroom.

"What in the…!"

Her eyes were wide with shock at the grand room he had just brought her into; it had to be larger than her entire flat. Two-thirds of the walls were glass, draped with sheer blue material that fluttered gently on the air coming in through an open window. The floor was covered in expensive white carpet that slid away under a huge rug, laying at the foot of a monstrously huge bed. Ema's heart almost stopped at the sight of it as they neared the dreaded piece of furniture and she was afraid to look at Klavier. She knew it was stupid to worry, that he'd promised to take things slow and he wouldn't go back on it, but there was a part of her that was unsure of what she would do if she saw something in his eyes…

"Now, Ema," Klavier said, leaning against the bed with a knee and settling her on the silken sheets. "Look at me, _bitte_." She did so reluctantly; he was watching her with displeasure. "Did you really ask me if you are not perfect?"

"I was just teasing glimmer-boy," Ema said, slowly edging away. "I know I'm not—"

His hands shot out to grab her arm and she froze. Moving with all the smoothness that only a rock star could, Klavier slid closer to her while simultaneously pulling her towards him. Before she knew it, Ema was half-sitting, half-lying down with a smouldering prosecutor leaning over her.

_Shit._

"You are insane, Ema," he whispered, leaning in until she could feel his breath ride over her skin. "Do you not see what you do to me?"

_Oh God, no…_

There was that look — the one Ema had been afraid to see because she knew that she was fast losing the ability to resist its allure. Every time his roving eyes moved to another part of her face, she felt her heart jump and then sprint till it was practically humming.

"K-Klavier, I was just—"

"You are perfect," he whispered, shifting his arms so they were on either side of her. "You are perfection."

His words were a shock to her system. On a good day, she considered herself comely at best but here was one of the most wanted men in the world telling her she was… perfect? No, she wasn't perfect – that was certain. But that he thought so was enough for her. Uncharacteristically, Ema raised a hand and touched his cheek again, wishing she could better express the happiness she felt at his words. She didn't know where her boldness came from and her only guess was that it was his fault – he made her this way. The detective's mind was too preoccupied by the handsome man above her to focus on her unusual reaction to being cornered like this.

His face was a constant source of interest to her. She could read so much in his eyes and yet understand nothing. Every single day, she would trace his angular jaw with her eyes, and sweep his cheeks with her scrutiny looking for the shadow of imperfection, every time finding none. She would observe his skin and think of sunsets and summer, drowning in the colour until there was no other colour left in her world. She noticed the flicks of his hair, each strand that fell over his forehead so perfectly, so smooth and soft – her fingers moved to feel it now and push it out of his eyes.

And those eyes…

Ema sighed inwardly and wished she had a better defence against his oceanic depths and the pull of his gaze. It was because of them that she was reduced to something she had never imagined she could be – there was nothing she could do to protect herself against him when he seared her like this…

"I like it when you do that," Klavier murmured.

Ema raised an eyebrow, hoping it would distract him from the fresh wave of blood that rushed to her cheeks. "Do what?"

One of his arms lifted and he engulfed her hand that caressed his cheek. "This."

Ema tried to pull it back but he gripped it firmly, flashing her a devilish smile.

"Klavier," she said warningly.

"Yes, _liebling_?"

Ema rolled her eyes. "Are you incapable of speaking English? Every time you open that mouth of yours—"

Here she stopped as her eyes fell on the subject of her words; her heart leapt into her throat when she saw them lift into a smile and move closer to hers.

"This mouth?" Klavier whispered. "These lips that want nothing more than to sing in your praise and to kiss you?"

Though any other day she would have scorned him for the cheesiness of his remark and told him to reserve it for his songs and groupies, today was different. Her stomach fluttered delicately and her arms wrapped around his neck of their own accord. She would have never reacted this way to his behaviour before but now things had changed.

Something had snapped inside of her. Ever since awakening in hospital, she had been constantly surrounded by Klavier and his friends meaning she didn't have much time to herself save for a few moments in the bathroom. Ema wasn't sure if that had been intentional on Klavier's part. Certainly, when they'd brought her out from the hospital, she hadn't missed the meaningful look Klavier and his friends had exchanged. They had casually mentioned bringing her to Klavier's home on the outskirts of the city but the cautiousness with which they transferred her left her in little doubt that she was still in danger. The fact that there was little to none civilization out here only confirmed her suspicions.

The detective didn't know who her attacker was although something nagged at her mind, as if she did know but wasn't searching the recesses of her psyche hard enough. The facelessness of her enemy would have bothered her a month ago but she barely gave it a thought except in frustration at not being able to aid Klavier and his friends. The Gavinners hadn't asked her anything about her ordeal though she was sure they were impatient to learn as much as they could. It was as if they were going out of their way to make sure she didn't think about it. From the moment of her awakening, the band had gone out of their way to be mischievous and merry. She may have fallen for it were it not for the serious expressions she saw when they thought she wasn't paying attention. But she was — of course she was.

How could she forget she had been kidnapped, chained up like chattel, hurt on purpose and that she couldn't remember what had happened?

"What are you thinking, Ema?"

Klavier was scrutinising her face and she sighed in relief, thanking whoever was _up there_ for blessing her with this gift of a man. She only smiled half-heartedly, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck while taking in the face of her… her…

Her _partner_.

Ema didn't cringe from the label as she might have done before: too much had transpired in the last three days for that. Yes, it was true that the boys had given her very little time to think about much but in the back of her mind had rested a niggling apprehension for two people in her life.

One of them was the man who was trying to take her apart with his penetrating gaze. When she had been conscious enough to register it, Klavier's bloodshot eyes and look of almost unbelievable joy had hit her like a freight train that brought with it hazy memories. The night they had found her was one memory she had managed to regain and the fear in his voice when he'd spoken and the sheer desperation of his touch had affected her to an extent beyond her understanding. The best way she could have described it was like a rope that had slipped from her steely grasp, leaving her hands burnt and crippled. She owed Klavier her life.

_He came to find me… He cared enough to look for me personally…_

"Thank you," she whispered now and looked down at his neck, unable to meet his eyes.

Klavier put a finger to her lips. "Hush, Ema."

"No," she shook her head and pulled back his hand. "I have to—"

Klavier didn't give her the chance to finish: he descended to finally claim what the proximity of his lips had been threatening to — and he kissed her. He moved his mouth against hers gently, a whispered hint of a touch like a butterfly's fluttering caress, and her heart caught on a breath. His chest pressed down into hers just enough so that she could feel his heartbeat mingling with hers. The way he softly pressed against her spoke of his desire to touch her but also his fear that he would hurt her. She smiled and Klavier, sensing the rise of her lips, mirrored her. They laughed breathlessly as if they'd run a thousand miles rather than simply hold each other.

And suddenly, Ema felt it again — that desperate terror as though he was in danger and he was going to be taken from her. Terrified, her arms tightened around him until he was pressed harder against her.

Klavier laughed. "I have charmed the unattainable Ema Skye!"

She didn't say anything, choosing instead to hold him and let the fear ebb with his touch. Klavier understood her need for his embrace and he rolled over on his back, pulling her into his arms while kissing her temple.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a low voice.

Ema rested her head against his shoulder and took a deep breath. "I…"

Klavier watched her as she fell silent again. "Remember what I told you Ema," he said taking her hand. "You can tell me anything and I will always be here to listen and to help you. You are not alone."

Ema nodded, still unsure. "I know."

"You may be puzzled as to why I have not asked you anything about your ordeal." He looked at her with his reassuring eyes. "But that is not because I do not want to know."

"I know," she said again. "I'm just worried and… and afraid."

His arms tightened around her. "What of, Ema?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I keep trying to remember what happened but all I ever get is this fear for…" She stopped again.

"Go on, Ema," he encouraged her.

"I feel scared for you and Deston."

Klavier seemed to jerk at her words and she looked into his face with a frown; he was staring at her incredulously. "Ema," he said, shaking his head and kissing her fingers. "You are absurd."

"Thanks."

"You should not worry about us," he said. "We can take care of ourselves."

She didn't bother explaining that that didn't mean her fear was suddenly abated. "Why didn't any of you ask me for any details?" she said changing the subject. "Isn't it standard procedure?"

"It is when we have a need to apprehend the culprit. We already have him."

Ema sat up slowly and stared down at Klavier. "You do?"

"Rafael Rainsford."

A jolt of surprise was followed by a wave of disgust. "He's behind this?" Klavier nodded, tracing circles on her palm. "How do you know? He's in prison."

There was a pause in which Klavier's eyes fell to the hand he was caressing and his fingers dancing gently on the bandage. Ema watched him carefully, frown deepening at the play of emotions on his face.

"Beneath this bandage is a — an injury that you do not seem to remember," Klavier said at last, sitting up too. "It is very… telling."

"H…how?"

"Do not misunderstand me, Ema. I will find your kidnappers if it is the last thing I do. But we know who ordered it and he will pay." Klavier looked her in the eye, holding her attention for a few seconds. "This burn is how we know who _he_ is. It is very specific: a brand that bears the initials of R.R. Rafael Rainsford."

Ema recoiled in horror, unable to bear her limb anymore and wishing she could get rid of it; it was like a disease that she wanted to cut away and never look at again. She felt violated and humiliated at having been marked like an animal.

"Hey," Klavier said, suddenly taking her hand. "We will get rid of it, Ema. I promise you."

"Why?" she said in a strangled voice. "Why was this—"

"It is not just you, Ema," Klavier said, wrapping his arms around her comfortingly. "It has happened to others too."

"How do you know?" the childish question fell from her lips as she fought against the threat of tears. Anger pulsed through her like venom, giving her mouth an acidic taste.

Klavier sighed as if in resignation. "I take it Deston has never told you about Raina."

Ema looked at him, shaking her head. "Raina?"

"Before I tell you this, you must make me a promise you will not ask him about it. It is a painful memory best left buried." She nodded, distracted by his unhappy expression. "Raina was Deston's fiancée."

Though taken aback by this new piece of information about her friend, something stirred in her memory. "He… he did tell me about his ex but not much else."

Klavier nodded understandingly. "Raina and Deston were engaged seven years ago. They were very much in love." He chuckled dryly. "They were the ones on the receiving end of our teasing in those days — very much like you and I today."

Ema smiled at the image of Deston being teased. "That sounds sweet."

"She and Deston were training for the Secret Service. Ja," Klavier said, seeing Ema's lips part in surprise, "Deston was set to be one of the best agents the intelligence had — they both were."

"This is kind of a stupid time to ask this," Ema said, unable to help herself, "but isn't the point of the SS to be secret? Everyone knows you're all involved with the law."

"Everyone, except a select few, thought he worked for Homeland Security," he explained. "Deston was entirely too good at what he did for the agency to reject him on account of his fame."

"I see."

"Raina and Deston had trained together and, as a result, worked most cases as a team. They were engaged for six months when she disappeared." Klavier paused despondently. "All we found were letters that she had kept hidden, threatening her life if she and Deston did not cease their investigation."

A sense of familiarity washed over her but she pushed it away, too absorbed by what Klavier was telling her. "Didn't Des get any?" Ema asked in a hushed voice, affected by the dark turn in the story.

Klavier shook his head. "The letters were intended for the both of them but she had not told him about any of them."

"Is that why she left him?" Ema guessed. "Because she blamed him for what happened or something?"

"Left him?" Klavier echoed, looking confused.

"Deston said she didn't want to be with him."

The prosecutor looked stunned. "I cannot believe Deston still thinks that," he muttered.

"What do you mean?" Ema said, suddenly feeling sick.

"The night she disappeared, Raina and Deston argued — right in front of us. Some very harsh things were said, mostly on Raina's part. She told him she did not love him and that accepting his proposal had been the worst mistake of her life."

"_What?"_

"It was uncalled for and to do it in front of others…" He rubbed his eyes. "It was so unlike her that we did not understand — until afterwards. It was clear that her reason for it was to keep Deston safe. That night she left to investigate and she did not return. Deston believed that she had meant every word she said…" He shook his head. "I just thought he would have realised by now that she was lying."

He paused, waiting for Ema to talk when he saw her open her mouth, but then she only motioned for him to go on.

"Raina was found a few days later." A pained look came over him. "She was dead."

"Dead?" Ema echoed, with gut-wrenching realisation – of course it hadn't been as simple as a break up. Nothing but an untimely death could bring such a haunted look to a man's eyes.

"Dead." Klavier winced. "We could not identify her."

"What do you mean?" Ema's heart was pounding so hard that it almost drowned out her inaudible whisper.

"She was unrecognisable," Klavier said dully. "Little more than a mangled mess. It was through dental records that we discovered it was her."

Ema looked away, her hand at her mouth. "Oh my God…"

"Her body was branded the same way."

Ema glanced at him in horror. "As me?"

"It was a little more brutal," he grimaced.

"Poor Deston…" Ema whispered, her heart going out to him as she tried to imagine what he must have felt. "And he thinks she didn't care?"

Klavier paused to think about his answer and he shrugged. "Perhaps it is easier to believe she did not care than that she cared too much."

"So… So, that was Rainsford's fault too?"

Klavier nodded, severe loathing taking over his features. "This," he said pausing to touch her wrist, "is proof enough. He did not deny the accusation when Deston and I visited him yesterday. In fact, he looked most displeased that we had not only found you safely but that we knew he was behind it."

She listened as he described the exchange, shivering with revulsion at Rafael's disgusting behaviour. Ema was silent, absentmindedly rubbing her wrist after Klavier was finished; even though she had seen her share of criminals in the time she had spent as a detective, it was beyond her ability to understand how men as evil as Rainsford existed.

And now, in the face of what Klavier had told her, her problems didn't feel all that bad anymore. Her thoughts turned to the Gavinner who had become such a good friend to her. His harrowed look upon seeing her wrist made more sense now and suddenly Ema's hatred for Rainsford flared, amounting to everything in her being: she hated him to the depths and breadth of her soul and she wished nothing but an equally evil fate for him, her curse rising not out of a sense of having been wronged but out of a vengeful need to gain justice for the destruction he'd brought to Deston's past.

"How did Deston… cope?"

"Barely, Ema," Klavier said tiredly. "We had to keep an eye on him for the longest time. Raina's death nearly killed him."

"Did he ever try to…?"

"Hurt himself? He might have but we were always nearby. He was never given the opportunity. When he got back to work, however, he became excessively reckless. Eventually, he transferred out of the SS."

"I..." She bit her lip. "I don't know what to say. He acts so…"

He nodded. "It is not in his nature to show it. He has moved on and become stronger but her death haunts him even now."

"He's so strong," Ema said in awe. "I don't know how he pulled through that."

"I thought I understood Deston's pain but it is impossible," Klavier sighed, putting his arms around Ema and resting his chin on her head. "It is impossible to recognise another's pain until one feels the same. I did not understand until I feared I had lost you."

Instead of bring warmed by his concern, Ema was hit by a pang of inexplicable guilt — she never wanted to be the reason for his apprehension. The thought of Klavier ever being affected by her death like that at once scared and touched her. She turned her head to kiss his cheek and though she wanting to tell him never to allow himself to care that much about her, Ema knew it wouldn't do any good to tell him how to handle his emotions.

"I'm sorry for—"

"That is enough out of you, Ema," Klavier interrupted. "You apologise for that which was never in your power to control."

She didn't know what to say to that so she stayed quiet, sighing and closing her eyes. As if he'd been waiting for her, Deston's laughing face appeared in the dark void of her mind. Suddenly, he was no longer the amused, carefree and laid-back Gavinner — it was as if the curtain had been pulled back while he prepared for his next performance and she had caught him falling apart. There was more to his loyalty and passion for justice than just admirable morals and principles. She understood at last what fuelled him and her heart hurt for him. It was as if his sorrow was her own and she wished he was nearby so that she could look into his eyes and smile at him and let him know as silently as she could that she would always be there for him. A fierce protectiveness flared inside of her, of the same kind that she felt for Klavier, and suddenly she knew she would die for her friend just as she would for the man she loved.

"What was she like?" Ema asked softly, her mind turning to the woman who _had_ died for Deston.

Klavier's chest heaved as he took a deep breath and she pulled back to look into his doleful face. "She was his equal," he said with a faint smile. "That is the best way to describe her. Raina was Deston's equal in everything."

"What do you mean?"

"You have been working with Deston of late. You must have noticed that he works exceedingly fast, ja? He is unconditionally gifted." Ema nodded slowly, remembering the times Deston had managed to put together the pieces of the puzzle faster than she could find them. "Deston is a fearsome adversary. He is trained in combat, explosive techniques, lethal force and much, much more. He has the knowledge and the strength to deal lethal blows with his bare hands. There is no situation he cannot handle."

"W-What?"

Klavier smiled at her shock and nodded. "You would not know, of course. He does not boast."

"Unlike you, you mean."

He laughed. "Of course. Now, where was I?"

"Deston's mighty fists."

Klavier's lips twitched. "As I said before, he was set to be one of the greatest agents for the Secret Service but so was Raina. When Deston and she worked together, they came to the same conclusion almost at the same time, like their minds were synched. When they sparred, it never ended because they were both equally fast and strong… although she insisted he never gave it his all." Ema smiled at the chuckle that fell from his lips.

"Did he?"

"I do not know," Klavier admitted. "It always seemed as though he was but then again, he is adept at hiding what he needs to hide. Another skill to add to his impressive resume."

"What was she like aside from all of that though?"

Klavier smiled at the impatience that spilled into Ema's voice. "She was lovely — and just as honest as Deston. Her final act to protect Deston is evidence enough of her devotion. And she was endlessly humble despite her beauty and talent."

"What did she looked like?" Ema asked softly.

"I will not answer that," Klavier said, immediately looking wary .

"Why?" she demanded and pulled away from him, ignoring his groan.

"Because, Fräulein," he replied, leaning back on his elbows and cocking an eyebrow at her, "I know that to speak highly of another woman does not sit well with one's girlfriend and I certainly will not—"

"Shut up!" Ema scowled. "This isn't the time for jokes."

"I am sorry," he acquiesced. "Have you never listened to Assassin Of My Heart?" Klavier asked and she shook her head. He straightened, taking a breath and began to sing a familiar tune that Deston had once hummed: _"Listen to this story I have to share, of a girl with dark eyes and fiery hair – a face of deadly beauty, a body like a flame…"_

"Red hair?" Klavier nodded. "Brown eyes?" Another nod. "She sounds… pretty amazing," she said, feeling dumpy all of a sudden.

"Even you would have liked her, Fräulein," Klavier said, oblivious to the physically inferiority she felt.

"Ye—hey!" Ema exclaimed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The prosecutor flashed her a grin. "That you are not easily impressed."

Ema rolled her eyes and waved him off. "Whatever."

"Let me ask _you_ something now, Ema," Klavier said, taking her hand and watching his fingers as they entwined with hers. "Are you hiding how you really feel?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You were kidnapped, Ema," he said, turning serious. "Either you are hiding how affected you are or you are braver than I gave you credit for."

Ema flushed, looking away. "It's nothing like that," she said truthfully. How could she explain that she didn't know what to be afraid of? How could she be affected by something she didn't remember?

"It's… well, I don't remember anything. How can I be scared of a memory I don't have?"

Klavier stared at her for a moment. "And that somebody… wishes you _harm_… that does not bother you?"

Ema shrugged, curious at her own lack of emotional response to such a design. "I suppose there's just too much going on for me to break down over this. If I got scared by something like this, I'd be stupid to join the police force." He didn't answer except to scrutinise her and she had the feeling he was trying to figure out if she was lying. "I'm not hiding anything, Klavier. I've just—" a gaunt, evil face flashed through her mind "—learnt to be tough."

"I do not know if you—"

Whatever he didn't know, Klavier never got to tell her — his phone rang and he glanced down at his hip where the sound came from. Ema saw the exasperation on his features and then a look that told her he was torn between ignoring it and taking it.

Not wanting him to ignore his work commitments for her, Ema gestured towards the sound. "Answer the call."

"It is probably somebody from work and I do not wish to leave you today."

"Answer the call, Klavier," Ema repeated.

Klavier's mouth rose in another smile that made her suspicious and he leaned against the pillows, locking his fingers behind his head. "Not unless you wish to extract the phone from my pocket," he said suggestively.

Ema's eyes flickered to where the noise was coming from and flushed when she realised what an awkward removal it would be given the tightness of his pants. She glared at him. "Answer the phone, Gavin."

The ringtone ceased and Klavier laughed at the mutinous expression on her face. "I do believe I am still your boss, Fräulein Detective."

Her eyes flickered in astonishment at the comment before narrowing dangerously. Despite knowing he was only teasing her, Ema was aggravated and she glowered at him while making to move as far away from him as possible. "Then you probably shouldn't be with me, _sir_."

Klavier sat up so suddenly that Ema didn't see him move – one minute he was laying down and the next, both his arms had engulfed her and his lips were pressed to hers in a breath-taking kiss that rocked her world. Her senses were so thoroughly conquered that she could do little more than gasp into his mouth. His lips enveloped hers passionately as if he was no longer in control and Ema could do nothing but hold on. His fingers curled around her wrists, guiding them to his neck and when he pulled away, she was on top of him and he was looking up into her astounded face.

"I can never be without you, Ema Skye," he said huskily. "Not in this lifetime – not ever. You are _my_ equal."

Ema couldn't help it – she smiled a shy smile that made his eyes twinkle and she cursed herself when her face flushed for the millionth time. She needed some distance from him, the intoxication of him. On sitting up, she realised he had manoeuvred her legs on either side of his waist and that she was intimately pressed against him. A sudden wave of dizziness hit her that she wasn't entirely sure had anything to do with rohypnol and she swayed before his strong hands steadied her.

"Whoa," she breathed, clutching her head. "Um…"

"Am I that good a kisser, baby?"

"Can it, fop-face," she muttered as he lowered her gently into the pillows — though she couldn't help but wonder if he _was_ the reason why and decided she was well and truly screwed if Klavier could do that to her.

"Forgive me, Ema," he said apologetically, brushing the hair away from her face. "My passion got the better of me." She barely heard him through the intense nausea that overtook her and only waved compliantly. He didn't speak again, apparently understanding her need for silence and she could feel his fingers run through her hair as she rubbed her eyes and took deep steady breaths. Her mind whirred, trying to think of anything to take her mind off the incredibly strong need to vomit. The only thing that stopped her from rushing to the bathroom was knowing that there nothing in her stomach to regurgitate.

When the feeling finally subsided, she ran her hand down her face and looked at Klavier with a sheepish smile — only to see a dark expression that took her by surprise.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I know that you require your rest," he started somewhat hesitantly, "but as you are entangled in this mess, I deem it important that you know what is happening tomorrow."

"What's happening tomorrow?" Ema said, suddenly feeling apprehensive.

"Rafael Rainsford's execution," Klavier said bluntly. "I have changed its date to tomorrow."

Ema might have had more questions for him but she was sidetracked by the disgusted look on Klavier's face, the unusually black look. It made her feel uncomfortable and she reached out to touch his hand.

"Klavier?"

He looked at her with a softer expression and squeezed her fingers. "I told you because I wish for you to be present. Do you think you are up to it?"

Her answer would have been yes even if she had no personal vendetta against the man – Klavier's expression told her he needed the company. Yes, Rainsford was behind the missing hours of her life, the injuries she was hosting and Klavier's discomfort… but more than that, he had ruined Deston's chance at a happy life. The bastard had caused her friend so much pain that Deston would carry it around with him for the rest of his life. Ema barely hesitated; her answer was sure and fast, uttered with firm conviction. "Yes."

Klavier smiled but before he could say anything, the phone in his pocket rang again. Ema glared at him wordlessly and he laughed, amused by her expression, before nodding submissively and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"It is Deston," he said.

"Tell him I want to talk to him." Klavier cocked an eyebrow. "Don't worry, I won't say anything about what you told me. I just… I don't know. I want to see him."

She didn't explain that her apprehension for her friend had only grown since learning about Raina, despite finding out Deston's strength and skill. She couldn't tell Klavier that the only way her concern could be lessened was through seeing him again — however illogical that was.

"Deston," Klavier said, flipping his phone open. "This better be good. I was having some quality time with—" Ema swatted at him, wishing she was well enough to sit up and smack him. He laughed and paused to listen to his friend. "Ja, Ema is fine. She wishes to see you." He paused again before turning to look at her. "He said he will be here soon." Another pause and Ema heard Deston's faint voice waft on the silence. "He requests that I pass on his exact words so here they are: your wish is my command."

Ema rolled her eyes. "Cheese machine."

Klavier chuckled but then his cheer subsided into a bleaker emotion. She watched him as his expression dimmed and the skin between his darkening eyes pulled together in a heavy frown. Her own smile faded with every second that passed and by the time he hung up, the prosecutor's face retained no trace of the mischief that had layered it a moment ago.

He turned dread-filled eyes on Ema. "I… I am sorry, Ema. I have to go. Deston said he will drop by to keep you company while I am gone."

"Don't worry about me," Ema said. "Are you okay?"

Klavier hesitated, as if struggling with himself. "I do not know."

"What did Deston say?" she asked anxiously.

"Kristoph wants to see me."


	27. Dark Reflection

Dark Reflection

'.'

I swim in the poison—

Of resentment

Eroded by the acid—

Of your betrayal.

.'.

"Welcome, Klavier."

To many, that pleasant voice had been the epitome of kindness; it was the voice Kristoph had used to comfort his clients and reassure them of their most certain victory. It was gentle and smooth, quiet and steady. Klavier had once heard a woman describe it as going through and through her, like cool water over painful blisters and now the comparison seemed perfect; the cool of the water would have to pass and when it did, the pain would return tenfold. However, that usually applied to others — those he had failed to fulfil his promise of acquittal to.

For Klavier that voice, and it's calming lilt, was an unwelcome yank into a past he tried and tried to forget. He knew that the comforting sonance they heard was nothing more than Kristoph's equanimity.

And now, as he watched his older brother run his slender fingers over the spines of the books — one of the few luxuries granted to him in this dark prison — Klavier knew that Kristoph's words held something much darker.

"You called, brother?" he said coolly as he swung the cell door shut behind him.

"Indeed," Kristoph murmured without turning around. "Just a moment."

The knots in his stomach tightened and for a moment he was quiet. How was it that only an hour had passed since he'd been laughing? Right now, the thought of smiling seemed incomprehensible. Why did Kristoph have this power over him? After all that he'd endured because of him, why was Klavier still reacting? Resentment rose in him like venom as he watched Kristoph through narrowed eyes and when the elder Gavin did nothing but continue with his search, he became aggravated. He had been pulled away from Ema for this? Laughter had given way to grimace just so that he could be ignored while Kristoph searched for a bedtime story?

Clenching his jaw, he moved closer. "Can your search for literature not wait till _after_ I am—"

"Here," Kristoph said, suddenly pulling a plain-bound book out and flinging it at Klavier who caught it with fumbling hands, surprised.

"Please do not tell me you called me here to recommend a book, Kristoph," he said eyeing his brother with exasperated suspicion.

"Take a look," Kristoph said simply and gestured at it.

Knowing the conversation would not progress otherwise, Klavier glanced at the title and frowned. "The Myth of Redemptive Violence," he read aloud.

"By Theadore Logan," finished Kristoph. "It's an interesting read. Have you ever heard of it?" Klavier simply stared in response, knowing that waiting was all he could do — Kristoph would not go any faster than he intended. "The idea is that chaos and evil are the original and natural state of the universe." He paused to pick at a piece of fluff on his sleeve and flick it off to the side. Klavier's eyes narrowed, unable to ignore the unintentionally metaphorical gesture. "Therefore in order to progress, a history of violence was necessary and anything which opposes the current order must be rejected and fought."

Klavier's insides churned with disgust and he threw the book at his brother's feet. "Another gift from _vater_, I take it?"

The former lawyer stood proud and tall, ignoring the book on the ground, and pierced Klavier with his blue eyes. "You are in a particularly foul mood, Klavier."

The prosecutor crossed his arms to mirror his brother and glared at him. "I do not appreciate having trash thrust in my face. If you do not wish to tell me the reason for your crime, at least have the decency not to remind me of it." His voice grew cold. "Nor do I wish to see how much like _vater_ you have become."

Kristoph studied him for a while, seemingly not at all disturbed by the severe dislike on his brother's face, and then leaned down to pick up the book. His calm eyes slid to the cover and he restored it to its place on the shelf, brushing it lightly with his fingers as he did so. Without pause, he flicked a hand towards the general space before the chair while sinking into it. Understanding the motion, and years of obeying Kristoph without question led Klavier to walk to the assigned spot. He crossed his arms defensively, glaring down at Kristoph who was leaning back leisurely and tapping the tips of his fingers together.

"I hear you were recently involved with the search and recovery of a certain detective," Kristoph said. Klavier stiffened. "I'd have thought your success would cheer you up."

Klavier quirked an eyebrow. "It did."

"Ah," Kristoph smiled and nodded as if he'd heard Klavier's unspoken words. "Until I summoned you."

"Kristoph," the young prosecutor said in frustration. "Perhaps we could skip the small talk."

"Certainly," Kristoph relented, inclining his head. "Although I can't help but wish you would not put yourself in harm's way for the sake of one mere—"

Klavier held up a hand. "She is a detective," he said frostily. "And she is my friend. Unlike you, bro, I would walk through fire for those I care about."

Kristoph was unmoved by this jab at his character; his tapping fingers came together to entwine and his mouth lifted in a more brotherly smile. "Perhaps she's more than just a friend?"

"I grow weary of this aimless conversation, Kristoph." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Please get to the point. I have much to do."

"Like getting the platform – pardon the pun – ready for the great act tomorrow?"

Klavier face hardened. "What?"

"Ah Klavier," the attorney sighed. "Do you think I don't keep an eye on everything you do?"

"It is disconcerting," Klavier spat, his arms unfolding. "But not the least surprising. You are your father's son after all."

"You are his son too."

Ice flooded his veins at Kristoph's words and he paled. "He is not my father!" he hissed, towering over his calm brother. "Never make the mistake of affiliating me with—"

"With the man who made you?" Kristoph cut across him loudly.

"He did not make me," Klavier growled. "It was Mother who carried us in her womb for 9 mont—"

"A womb that would have remained devoid of us had it not been for _vater,_" Kristoph said softly, rising to his feet. "Really, Klavier. Do you require a biology class at this age?"

The prosecutor shook his head disbelievingly. Kristoph's face was smooth, not a hint of anger or any other emotion, except what the slight lift of his mouth hinted. Those eyes, so like his, were genial but where his own twinkled with mischief, the sparkle in his brother's was like the reflection of an iceberg. That half-smile may be just as amused but where his own guaranteed a good tease, Kristoph's held a chilling promise of something darker, something nobody would understand until he was ready for them to know.

"Relax, Klavier," Kristoph said, snapping him out of his heavy thoughts. "I didn't bring you here to regurgitate that decade old argument. Who was right and wrong? We agreed to keep that for the courtroom."

"Ja," Klavier said icily. "Except we never had the chance."

Kristoph paused as if to contemplate this. "It _is_ odd that in all the seven years you have worked at the bench, I never once faced a trial against you."

"Perhaps it is not so odd at all."

Kristoph tilted his head. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Perhaps you intentionally refused all the cases you knew I was prosecuting," Klavier said, his eyes narrowing as he watched for any suspicious reaction. "Maybe it was all by your design."

Kristoph only smiled. "And why would I go to such lengths?"

He had his answer ready: "Because you know I am right. You know that _vater_ was in the wrong—"

"He was cornered," Kristoph said with all the tranquillity of a gentle breeze. "He had no choice but—"

"_Komm mir nicht mit diesem Scheiß_, Kristoph!" Klavier snapped, incensed. "He could have given you to Mother!"

"Ha!" his brother scoffed, the slightest glimmer of anger showing in his gaze and the prosecutor froze. "To a woman who could barely raise you without the aid of her sister? Please, Klavier. This is no time for jokes."

"Jokes?" he echoed softly, staring at his sibling with mounting disbelief and a mad desire to laugh hit him. "Here you stand – in this cell, which has housed only the vilest of criminals – smiling at every question I ask, acting for all the world like the caring brother…" He took a step closer, never wavering. "Here you stand, acting just like the man who destroyed our family, flaunting this nurtured contempt for our mother and wearing your pride like a crown…"

"Klavier—"

"_Here you stand!"_ he bellowed, pushed beyond endurance, "and you have the _audacity_ to mock _me_? It is _you_, Kristoph—" he jabbed his brother in the chest "—who are the joke." Klavier stepped back and looked up and down at the man disdainfully. "_Wie der Vater, so der Sohn_."

"_Sei nicht so frech zu mir_," Kristoph replied frostily. "I am still your brother."

"I will show you respect when you do the same for _Mutti_," Klavier retorted.

His proclamation was met with silence and he found himself drawn into the icy depths of his brother's gaze, wondering how their lives had turned into this. They had been so happy, he and Kristoph, when they were little. All they'd had to worry about was the next bully they would unite against (which had usually led to Kristoph shielding and lashing out to protect him).

_How did it come to this?_ Klavier thought, staring at the one man he'd held in the highest esteem so long ago. _How did we get to this place?_

"What did he do to you, Kristoph?" Klavier asked aloud, his voice soft. "What killed that strong spirit I admired in you?"

"Father _made _me strong," Kristoph said, folding his arms over his chest. "He made me the strongest I could be. Certainly, his methods weren't always the most pleasant but the end justify the means." He shrugged elegantly and smiled. "I didn't die, Klavier. Not unless you killed me in your mind."

Repugnance rushing through him like filth that had invaded his body, clinging to his essence. "Murder is a creed only you have adopted," Klavier said grimly,

"Ah," Kristoph nodded. "Of course. We're two sides of the same coin, yes? You, the light. And I?" He took a step closer to Klavier. "I, the dark reflection you can't face."

Klavier didn't bother with an answer. What could he say? Agree with him and tell him that looking in the mirror pained him because of who the man in the glass reminded him of? That every day he experienced a moment of despair when he remembered he had only Kristoph left – a brother who had decided to follow in his father's footsteps? Tell him that on days like this, he wished Kristoph had never been born, that _he'd_ never been born, so that he wouldn't have had to deal with all the uncertainly and confusion he lived with? What difference would those comments make except to illicit another amused smile from a sibling who would tell him nothing? So, with a frustrated sigh, he whirled towards the door of the cell to yank it open but it was then that Kristoph spoke, stopping him in his tracks.

"I need you to postpone Rafael Rainsford's execution."

Klavier froze.

And then, like a block of cement had fallen on his stomach, he felt sick. The ice of paralysing horror claimed him and a voice inside was protesting, yelling in denial and telling him that he'd heard wrong…

_No. No… No! _ Kristoph couldn't have said such a thing… there was no way he could possibly be… could he?

But even as these thoughts ran through him, the walls were closing in on him and he was turning… turning… turning until Kristoph was in his line of sight again and he could see for himself whether or not it was true. Yet his brother's face remained as impassive as ever when he leaned back in his chair and raised his eyes to Klavier's. There was not a hint of shame or regret in them – only that monotonous conviviality screaming a thousand commands into the silence between them.

"What… did you say?"

"Postpone Mr Rainsford's execution," Kristoph repeated. "Namely, rearrange the date to the original one. It is only a few more days."

He leapt across the room and by the time Klavier reached him, Kristoph was already on his feet and adjusting his glasses. The latter stared Klavier in the eye with such calm that the prosecutor's rage was only further pushed till he desired nothing more than to rip that serenity right off his face. He didn't care anymore that he was his brother - all that rung through him was the blasphemous request Kristoph had made and Klavier's need to know why he had done it.

"What _game_ are you playing?" Klavier demanded, tightening his hands into fists to control the violence beginning to bubble inside of him.

Kristoph tilted his head back, unfazed by the obvious rage simmering just beneath the surface. "No games, Klavier. I simply require his services."

"His services?" Klavier said sarcastically. "_Of course_. No doubt you mean the use of his perfectly respectable company."

"On the contrary," Kristoph contradicted quietly. "I need his ties to the criminal underworld."

Shock rippled through Klavier like unpleasant bolts of lightning. His anger slackened into disbelief and he stepped backward involuntarily. "What are you saying?" he barked. "_What are you doing?_ Have you—"

"He can find Gordon Mazzare."

Klavier staggered. Another wave of horror washed over him when the name passed through his mind, accompanied by the dreadful images of his mother's murder, his father's death… He stared at Kristoph through wide eyes, completely losing his composure at last. His heart pounded in his ears like the drum-roll of a secret that had lingered just below his nose, finally making its grand entrance. He wheezed, transported back into the mind and body of a child who was still grieving the death of the only parent who had ever loved him. The face of her killer flashed before him and he shook his head, stumbling on the spot as he aimed to put as much distance as he could between himself and the terrible memory.

"_Kristoph!"_ Klavier gasped, flabbergasted. _"You—!"_

He couldn't go on. The words were stuck in his throat. The dark quality of his brother's presence increased tenfold and the coolness of that gaze dropped in temperature again. Klavier's lips parted and he gulped in lungfuls of air while doing nothing more than stare at the other Gavin.

"Mazzare deserves to be brought to justice," Kristoph continued but now the peaceful demeanour was gone; fury raged behind the steady voice. "We owe it to our parents – to ourselves."

"And you would associate yourself with tha–that _monster_ to find him?" he spat tempestuously.

"Did we not join this profession to avenge the death of our parents?" Kristoph said, a puzzled frown on his face.

"I joined the Law to bring justice to the world!" Klavier snarled. "Not to abuse my position for my own agenda."

"Klavier…" Kristoph started, an almost tired look on his face as he stepped closer to the enraged Gavinner and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not asking you to do anything wrong. All I require is one more meeting with Mr Rainsford. Then I will know Mazzare's location."

"And then what?" Klavier sneered shrugging his hand off. "You are in prison!"

"Then," Kristoph answered evenly, folding his arms, "I will hand him to you."

"I do not want him."

Kristoph lowered his head and the light reflected off his glasses ominously. "You… don't want him?"

Klavier's gaze was drawn to the other's clenched fists. "Not with Rainsford's help," he said bleakly. "Not if it means giving him a chance to—"

"It's just a few more days," Kristoph snapped. "What can he do?"

"Kill."

"He—"

"Answer me this," Klavier interrupted loudly. "What are _you_ giving _him_?"

"What are you talking about now, Klavier?"

"Rainsford does not do anybody any favours," he said, carefully watching Kristoph. "So what have you promised him?"

"I didn't take monetary payment from him for the defence of his case," came the frosty reply.

Klavier stared at him for several long moments and then shook his head in disgust, recognising the lie for what it was. "Rafael will die tomorrow. I will not postpone it."

"Don't you care that he killed Mother?" Kristoph shouted, dropping all pretence.

But Klavier barely heard him; he was already walking to the door. He had nothing left to give now and all of his anger – the shield he used every time he came here – was leaving him empty and drained. His shoulders had drooped and his head was beginning to throb. He wanted nothing more than to be done, to leave, to get away from his brother and his insanity.

"Mazzare was not the one who killed _Mutti_, Kristoph," he said quietly.

Kristoph moved faster than anyone had ever seen him but Klavier barely flinched; he leaned against the door, holding onto the bars to keep himself upright and he looked at Kristoph over his shoulder as he towered over him, all elegance thrown to the wayside, his eyes blazing.

"You would defy me?"

Those words stung him like nettle and the obedient Klavier in him wavered. Was he making the right decision? Could he really not wait a few more days and find the man who had destroyed his mother?

"Kristoph, I…"

_What are you thinking?_ a voice inside him echoed, scandalised. _You cannot give in. You cannot bring them back but postponing the execution could lead to more death and destruction – and you would be responsible for it. _

"Yes, I will defy you," Klavier said in a stronger voice. Kristoph's eyes tightened. "Not only to serve justice but to save you from what you are becoming."

He watched Kristoph take a step back, watched as that infuriating mask of tranquillity swept over his features, smoothing them out. "I see." His mouth curled in amusement again. "So you plan on going ahead with this."

"I do."

Without waiting for a reply, Klavier swung the door open. His insides screamed at him to run, to get away from the suffocating confines of his brother's presence. _Get away from here… Forget this ever happened… Forget him… _

But just as he stepped over the threshold, Kristoph spoke again, branding his next words in the young prosecutor's memory forever: "Don't try to save me, Klavier."

There was something in the tone of his voice that pulled at Klavier — he turned to Kristoph and found him running a hand over the spine of the book he'd shown him earlier.

"What do you mean?" Klavier said as alarmed and trepidation came to rest in the cavern of his chest.

"Simply this." Kristoph pierced him with his eyes. "Do not try to pick up the pieces of my body."

His mouth dried. "Kristoph—"

"I have fallen from heights you don't even know, _brüderlein_."

* * *

"Prosecutor Gavin."

The gravelly voice caught his attention as he sped past the warden who stood several feet away from his office door. Klavier almost ignored him but when he saw the older man's stony expression, he knew he couldn't. No matter how angry he was, Klavier knew he would kick himself to hell if he dismissed what might be an important message. He paused, struggling to control his expression as Kristoph's words circled in his mind, and took a deep breath. His heart was still thudding and every part of him was stretched so tight that his body screamed in protest at the emotional torture.

_Get a grip, Klavier. Kristoph is not going to get any better and you cannot fall to pieces every time he angers you. _

"Herr Warden," he said in his most professional tone as he turned around.

"Sorry to bother you and all that," the man said briskly. "But I have a message from Daryan Crescend."

The muscles around his neck and shoulders became painfully tight at the sound of his friend's name. "Tell him whatever it is, it must wait. I am bu—"

"He said it's urgent," the warden interrupted swiftly. "He wants to talk to you. Matter of life and death."

Klavier's rigid form went cold.

_What now? _

Though he could not imagine how Daryan could have got hold of such information, he didn't bother to waste time mulling it over. Ema's recent brush with death had left little room for doubt. He nodded for the warden to lead the way and followed him as fast as his legs could carry him, his meeting with Kristoph pushed aside. There were two things running through his mind: one, that Daryan wouldn't try to contact him unless his warning directly involved Klavier; two, if Daryan was worried then he was as well.

"Did Daryan say what it was about?"

The warden shook his head. "He asked for you while you were meeting with Mr Gavin."

"How did he know I was here?" Klavier said in surprise.

"He didn't," was the short reply and he didn't push for anymore information: they had arrived outside the allocated room and Klavier swept through the door without pause. He hurried into the room and his head whipped around as his keen eyes searched for his friend who was pacing in the centre of his cell.

"Klavier," Daryan said, moving forward with uncharacteristic speed. "It's about freaking time, man. I thought that old coot had forgotten."

The intense worry on his face negated Klavier's anger at Daryan and his own anxiousness overwhelmed him. Having already exhausted his energy on the argument with Kristoph, Klavier was beyond any principles and moralistic emotions so when he approached Daryan, it was with only one question on his lips.

"What is going on?" he demanded, glancing back and forth between Daryan's eyes. "What—?"

"Ain't got the time, Gavin," Daryan cut him off impatiently. "Rainsford's after blood. You need to get Deston and Skye someplace safe—"

"I have sealed off access to Rainsford. He cannot—"

"Don't be so naïve, Klavier," Daryan snapped. "This guy's run the underworld for over a decade and you think a stupid PRA sanction's gonna stop him?"

"What the hell are you saying?" Klavier demanded, fear sweeping over him like a tidal wave as he thought of Ema, only recently discharged from hospital.

"He wants Deston or Ema—maybe both—so you need someone—wait, _no!_ Do it yourself!" Daryan was waving erratically, clutching his hair randomly. "You can't trust anyone else and I don't know who he's sent—"

"Calm down!" Klavier yelled, grabbing his friend's shoulder through the bars and steadying him. _"Tell me what you know!"_

"Rainsford's sent someone and I heard Deston and Ema's name. Klavier—go—"

"How—?"

"_IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW!" _Daryan roared suddenly, punching the bars_. "RAINSFORD'S SENT SOMEONE AFTER THEM AND IF YOU DON'T DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, THEY'RE GOING TO DIE!"_


	28. Ashes Of The Ages

I own all OCs except Maralie who is The Sequestered Princess's creation. Please check out her fic (**Three Wrights and an Edgeworth**) for some more Maralie goodness. She has kindly allowed me to use Mara in this fic! Thank ya babe! I hope I do her justice

* * *

Ashes Of The Ages

"Hey Ema," Seren said and she looked at him quizzically, drawn out of the movie she'd been watching, and saw him throwing aside the little black book he'd been rifling through. "You know people in Forensics, dontcha?"

She tilted her head, glancing at Raoul when he snorted and smiled herself as she remembered all the people she'd annoyed in CSI: they hated her and her science kits. "Well, kinda. Yeah. Why?"

"Do you know someone called Maralie? Not sure what her surname is."

"Tall? Red hair?" She paused. "Always wearing green?"

Seren flashed her a perfect smile. "That's the one! What's she like?"

Ema raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"He's got a crush on the chick, that's why," Raoul scoffed, throwing down his files and sauntering over to them both. "Been stalking her to every crime scene."

Ema turned a surprised expression on Seren who was beaming at her. "Ignore him," he said good-naturedly. "Ray gets pissed off when we act like gentlemen."

Raoul snorted again. "If stalking makes us gentlemen then society's more fucked than I realised," he drawled. "And get the name right, celery-stick."

"Celery-stick?" she echoed, turning on Raoul who smirked.

"That's right, _bellissima_," Raoul said, pointing at Seren's clothes. "Look at him. He belongs on a tree branch."

"Wow," she said, turning back to Seren. "There's _two_ of them."

Seren laughed. "Ray's worse. At least Daryan knows when to shut his trap."

"Yeah," Raoul said, rolling his eyes and leaning against the sofa while looking down at them. "When Tess sticks her ton—"

"Anyway," Seren cut across him loudly and Ema stifled a giggle. "I've seen this girl around a lot. I wanna talk to her but I don't know how to approach her."

"He's shy, basically," Raoul interrupted in an impatient tone.

"Shy?" Ema exclaimed, staring at him wide-eyed.

"I'm not shy!" Seren protested. "I just don't know what she's like. How can I just go up to her and—"

"Use your legs."

"Shut it, Adagio."

"I don't know Mara that well," Ema admitted, trying to remember what she could. "She's pretty cool. Big Gavinners fan. Really anal about crime scenes although she tends to let me do my stuff." She smirked at Seren. "You've got good taste."

Seren chuckled. "Cheers, Ema."

"How'd you meet her?" she asked curiously. "Don't you work in Narcotics?"

Raoul replied this time: "She's part of the team that deals with crime scenes we suspect have something to do with this crime ring."

Ema's amusement faded a little and subconsciously her fingers wrapped around her wrist. She fought against the fragmented memories of a dank room that overtook her and she shook her head, knowing now was not the time to rifle through the unexplored feelings about the missing hours of her life.

"Anyway," Seren continued, throwing Raoul a warning look and she smiled inwardly at the obvious concern in his eyes. "I just wanted to know if you could introduce us sometime."

"Wuss."

"He's right to be cautious," Ema interjected before Seren could retort. "Mara has a few screws loose."

"What do you mean?" Seren asked quickly while Raoul sniggered.

"She's not above using her tools of the trade on people who muck around with her crime scenes," Ema said before suddenly falling into contemplative repose. "Hmm, I don't know why I didn't think to ask for her help before. Then I wouldn't have to deal with Klavier's stupid fan-girls…"

"Jealous, Ema?" Raoul asked with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, of course. I want to squirt nitro-glycerine in their eyes just for looking at him."

"Damn, girl! Ya gotta learn to share, y'know? He's a wanted piece of ass."

Ema turned to Raoul with a smirk of her own. "By the girls? Or you?"

He blinked at her in surprise while Seren exploded in laughter. "She got you good, mate!" he chortled.

Raoul wasn't the least bit fazed and his grin was back in place almost immediately. "You're perfect for Klavier."

Ema looked away quickly, reverting her attention to the TV as a slight blush crept across her cheeks and she prayed they wouldn't start to tease her again. When the silence stretched, her paranoia grew and she grappled with her mind for a topic.

"When is Des coming?"

"Look at what you've done!" Seren scolded, glaring at Raoul. "She's sick of us already! How am I going to get Mara now?"

Ema laughed, waving the remote control at Seren. "So that's why you offered to keep me company!" she cried, pretending to be offended. "You wanted to use me!"

"Well that and Klavier would kill us if we left you alone," Seren said sombrely. "And I like being alive and rich."

Ema shook her head, rolling her eyes again, but even as she turned to look at the TV once more, her thoughts focused on Klavier. Her smile slowly faded when she recalled the disheartened expression with which he'd left her and she anxiously hoped that Kristoph had simply called Klavier for a fraternal visit and nothing more…

_Yeah right. What are the chances of that? _

She bit her lip and tried to avert her thoughts but found them drawn to Deston instead – who also elicited apprehension. For the last two hours — since Klavier had told her about Raina — the worry she had harboured only increased and when Raoul and Seren had arrived instead of Deston, explaining he was held up somewhere, her need to see him had strengthened. Thankfully, Raoul and Seren had kept her preoccupied enough that she had had little time to dwell on any of it.

As if he knew she was sinking into serious thoughts, Seren nudged her and she focused on him, smiling when she saw his baby-boy pout. "Pwease intwoduce me to Mawa?"

Ema sighed dramatically as if he'd worn her down. "Oh fine! But an introduction is all I'll take part in! After that, she's all yours — weapons and all."

Seren flashed her a perfect smile. "I'll handle her."

Raoul looked set to say something but another noise interrupted him and he uncrossed his arms, looking down at his leather pants. Seren and Ema glanced at him as he produced a phone from his pockets with flourish.

"Speak of the devil," he drawled into his cell. "Ema was just asking ab—yeah." He paused, running his hand over his stubble as if in thought. "Huh. That's weird. Ya gonna… wait, what?" he frowned obviously annoyed and Ema glanced at Seren when she saw him move; he was watching Raoul attentively. "I wanna see it as well, Cavatin. Get your ass back—no, it's my crime scene. If you muck it up I'm gonna shove my—"

Unexpectedly, something clamped around her head and she jumped, her hands coming up to see what had grabbed hold of her ears. Her eyes widened when she felt a pair of very masculine hands and she turned her scandalised gaze on Seren, wondering what the _hell _he was thinking, only to see a grimace on his lips.

"What—?"

"Sorry, Ema," Seren said, pulling back and scowling at Raoul who appeared to have hung up. "Ray's got a vulgar tongue when he's annoyed. I wanted to spare you the scars his language would inflict on you."

Uncertain as to how to react to this, Ema simply turned a sceptical expression on Raoul who had straightened up and was rubbing his jaw again, a thoughtful frown between his eyes.

"What's up, Ray?" Seren asked, standing up.

"Deston's over at the old building with a buncha forensics," Raoul replied, walking to a small table and picking up his keys. "Gonna head over there to see what they've got." He glanced at them both. "Deston's gonna swing by soon. You can join me then, Seren."

"Wait a minute!" she exclaimed, turning on the sofa to face him fully. "I want to go too!"

"Er—no."

She narrowed her eyes at Raoul. "I wasn't asking for permission."

"You need your rest, Ema," he said frankly. "Besides, I ain't got the patience to deal with the moaning I'm gonna get from Klavier if he—"

"All I'm asking is to tag along! It's not like—_whoa…_" Her protests faded as she stood up too suddenly and swayed on the spot. Instantly Seren was there, steadying her, and she flushed at her damsel in distress behaviour, the blush deepening at Raoul's smug voice:

"And _that _is exactly why you're gonna stay _here_, sweetheart."

The fire in her cheeks rushed to the tips of her fingers and they turned in on themselves into tiny fists as she glared at him. "I can see why you're in the Gavinners. You really have an arresting personality, Raoul."

He spun the keys on his finger and cocked his head back with a smile. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You should definitely be arrested for it. Where's my badge? No, wait. Screw that. _Where are my Snackoos?_"

This time Raoul joined in with Seren's laugh as Ema made a show of looking around the room for her beloved possessions and sighing in frustration when she remembered that Deston had taken all of her stuff upstairs before leaving. She stood up again (much slower this time) and narrowed her eyes at Raoul who was still laughing.

"Hey, come on, babe," Raoul said, throwing his hands up and shaking his head. "I'm just tryin'a keep you safe from the wolves out there."

"What I need protection from is your suffocating arrogance!"

"Aw, it's not like that, Ema," Seren cut in gently. "We just don't want anything happening to you again."

"I'm going to be with you guys," she insisted, turning to him. "Who's going to hurt me with everyone there? Anyway, I'm a detective. I _signed up_ for this life!"

"But why do you want to go?" Seren asked, puzzled. "I'd have thought you wouldn't want to see the place again – ever."

She was about to growl and snap her answer: that she was a detective and it was her job to investigate _especially_ when the case involved herself but then she realised she wouldn't get what she wanted that way. So, instead, Ema sighed, the scowl leaving her face and she turned her eyes away from their searching expressions. "It's nothing big," she muttered, boring holes into the leather of the sofa, hoping her act would work. "I just want to see it…you know… maybe it'll jog my memory."

A silence met her awkward answer and she peeked at Raoul to see him looking at Seren with an exasperated expression, knowing her blunt answer had rattled them. When she looked at the other Gavinner, he was staring back at Raoul, scolding him with his eyes and Ema knew she'd won.

"Alright, Ema," Raoul said after a moment. "You can come along now. But for freak's _sake, _don't tell Gavin."

Ema smirked triumphantly. "Scares you, does he?"

Seren chortled; "You really shouldn't push Ray's buttons like that, Ema."

"The himbo doesn't scare me," Raoul said almost derisively, looking irked. "What scares me are the angst-filled love songs he's gonna write and make us sing if something happens to you."

Ema raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you write some then?"

"Ema…" Seren said, a definite warning in his voice.

"Don't you want to go?" Raoul said with a light frown.

"Of course I do!" she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Then how about you stop being cute and get changed?" Raoul said bluntly. "Ain't got all day, sweetness."

"How about you stop being an ass and get the car ready?" Ema retorted, moving up the stairs and glancing at Seren when he accompanied her. She was about to argue, telling him she didn't need an escort but he shook his head and laughed.

"Don't bother, Ema. I'm not letting you up there alone."

"Is he always like that?" she asked quietly, glancing over her shoulder at Raoul who was still in the same spot, watching her climb with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Pretty much," Seren replied with amusement. "I see his personality has been infectious; I've never seen you turn that verbally sharp."

"Yeah, he was infectious alright," she grumbled, making a mental note to complain to Klavier and deciding that Raoul was definitely – without a doubt – worthy of the King Fop title. "Just like the bubonic plague."

Seren laughed. "Then I guess I'll have to make sure you stay away from him."

.'.

Seren Aded groaned and covered his eyes, rubbing them wearily as he tried to block out Ema and Raoul's bickering. It appeared the Gavinner's bassist and the young detective had decided their sole function around each other was to argue. Seren slammed the car door behind him and walked away to get some peace and quiet after almost an hour of their quarrelling, leaving them both behind. Ema was getting out of the car, speaking loudly as she addressed Raoul: "Success hasn't gone to your head – just your mouth!"

"That _would _explain all the women wanting to kiss it," Raoul drawled, locking the car door. "After all, success _is _attractive." He smirked at her before turning to look down at the road that led to the large building.

Ema, however, was too preoccupied with retaliating to notice they'd arrived at their destination and that several forensics teams as well as officers seem to be heading away from the crime scene and towards their cars. She shoved a hand inside her bag to draw out a pack of Snackoos but found it to be empty except for the usual bottles of chemicals she kept in her satchel. Raoul glanced at her sideways, seeing her movement, and grinned. "Ran outta ammunition, have we?"

"You know what you remind me of? A dripping tap." Ema glowered, marching towards him. "I can hear you but I can't _turn you off_!"

Raoul cocked his head at her, his green eyes flickering between hers and his mouth lifted at the corners; he looked suspiciously close to laughing. "Kinda random, aren't ya, buttercup?"

Ema gave him a deadly glare. "How has your reflection not disowned you yet?"

The sound of leather rubbing against itself made her cringe when he crossed his arms, giving her a lazy look. "Sticks and stones. You're obviously mistaking me with someone who gives a damn, angel," he intonated, his eyes twinkling. "Save it for your boyfriend."

Before Ema could put into cutting words how outraged she was, Seren interrupted, calling her name. The detective tore her narrowed eyes away from Raoul and looked at Seren who was standing several feet away. Throwing the infuriating fop one last dirty look, she marched away towards the sweeter, less annoying band member who, she noticed as she got closer, seemed transfixed by something. Curiously, she followed his gaze and smiled smugly when she saw the young red-head throwing a box into the back of a van and snapping her gloves off.

"You know, I think I can see where people might think you're stalking her," Ema said, startling Seren out of his observation. He looked at her with a sheepish grin and she was momentarily distracted as Raoul swept past them wordlessly towards the building; for a moment she watched his back as his jacket swayed against his confident stride and wished she could kick him in the—

"Anyway," she said hastily, trying to cleanse her mind of the tempting image, "you're obviously more than just a little interested."

"I think she's flippin' hot," he admitted and Ema's mouth twitched, noticing the very slight British lilt to his accent that remained even after his years in the States. For one reason or another, she found the way he spoke only added to his comfortable personality.

"Well, talk to her!" Ema exclaimed, laughing when she saw his hesitation. "You can get on a stage and perform in front of a million screaming fans but you can't do this?"

"I'm not shy!" he protested once more and she shook her head, turning to look at the young red-head again who was throwing her discarded lab coat into the van and snapping the doors shut. "I'm not! I just don't want to overwhelm her with my—"

"If I can handle Klavier, she sure as hell can handle you."

"You can't compare me to—"

Ignoring him, Ema called out to her: "Hey, Maralie!"

The young woman stopped and whipped around, her eyes searching her surroundings until they fell on the approaching figure of the detective. Mara's wavy red hair was woven into an intricately braided style that always reminded the detective of the main character in a book she'd read. She was wearing a deep green sweater and a pair of beautifully tailored cream pants, luscious green leather heels, and a gorgeous emerald pendant necklace.

Ema smiled inwardly when Maralie's eyes widened as she looked at her and then her companion, shock registering on her face. As she'd have expected though, Ema saw the expression leave as swiftly as it'd come and then she was moving towards them as well, her attention fixed determinedly on Ema.

"Hey, Ema," Maralie said with a smile, stopping before her and taking her by the arms. "I heard about all the crap you've been going through lately."

Ema's smile faltered and her stomach dropped as she remembered with a shock that she was at the scene of the crime — the crime that had been central to her. Her head whipped around to look at the large building and suddenly felt a cold feeling wash over her that she couldn't quite understand. It faded as quickly as it'd come and an emptiness came to fill her that Ema couldn't quite comprehend. She glanced down at the ground to compose her expression and shrugged. "I don't remember anything."

"We'll get him Ema," Maralie said, throwing her arms around the detective's neck in an unexpected hug. "I swear!"

"Um, thanks, Mara," Ema said hugging her in return, somewhat taken aback but touched nonetheless. "Anyway," she continued when Maralie pulled away, "these guys came here to check it out and I tagged along." Ema thrust a thumb in Seren's direction. "I don't suppose I need to introduce you."

The careful pause was all they needed: Maralie's eyes slid to the Gavinner standing behind her and a subtle blush tinged her cheeks which Ema found rather interesting on the tougher-than-nails CSI. Nevertheless, she was impressed when Mara held a hand out to Seren and introduced herself in a steady voice. "Hey, I'm Maralie."

Ema watched as the two smiled at each other before interrupting them smugly. "So we were wondering," she continued, feeling her amusement rise when they jumped a little. _Hmm. Now I understand Klavier and Deston's love for teasing…_ "Did you find anything?"

Mara blinked rapidly at the van beside them, gesturing towards it silently. "Um—yeah…" Ema's lips twitched at the breathlessness of her friend's voice and glanced at Seren who was watching Mara attentively. "I was just about to take some things back to the lab for analysis. I think we've got everything we could get for today."

"For today?" Ema asked. "Is th—"

"Ema!"

She turned at the sound to see Deston jogging across the ground and her face erupted into a beaming smile as she hastened towards him. Her eyes ran over his form as he sped up and some of the apprehension inside her lessened when she saw he was alright.

_Of course he's alright. Remember what Klavier said? Deston is a __**fearsome adversary**__…_

"Hey!" Deston greeted her and she was instantly lifted off the ground into a tight hug. Ema yelped, taken aback by his affectionate gesture and laughed when he set her down. "Ray just told me you came along as well." His expression turned accusing. "You know you're meant to be resting." Ema laughed again, still a little out of breath from the unexpected embrace and tapped his arm while readjusting the strap of the bag on her shoulder. Deston glanced at it. "Dear God in Heaven!" he groaned. "Please don't tell me you're here to _work_?"

"No, no!" she replied quickly, seeing the rising thunder in his features. "Relax. I'm just so used to carrying this thing around that it's kind of a habit." When he continued to stare at her cynically, she sighed. "Deston. I'm fine. Even _I'm_ not stupid enough to do that." She winked at him. "If I wanted to work, I'd come here when you weren't around to get all beastly on me!"

Deston laughed at her mischievous expression, shaking his head but then he glanced over her shoulder at Seren and Maralie who were apparently in deep conversation. Ema took the growing blush on the girl's cheeks to be a positive sign and glanced at Deston who looked amused. "Finally gathered the courage to approach her, did he?" he muttered under his breath.

"You could say that." Ema observed Seren's smiling face a moment longer before turning to Deston with a serious expression and glancing at the building behind him. "What's going on? Did you find anything?"

He looked backwards over his shoulder then grimaced at her. "Why are you here, Em?"

"I thought seeing the place again might trigger something," she answered, only half telling the truth. Yes, she'd wanted to see the place and regain the lost pieces of her memory but more importantly, she'd wanted to see Deston and the impatience had grated on her nerves. Now that he was before her, she suddenly felt a lot better and the smile on her face seemed to melt him because he exhaled deeply before stepping aside and gesturing with his hand.

"Incorrigible ladies first."

Amused, and with one last glance at Seren and Mara (who had both apparently forgotten where they were or what they were supposed to be doing), Deston and Ema walked towards the building in silence. Her eyes rose to look at the site as they stepped into the shadow of the structure, frowning at the misshapen profile and wondered why on earth she'd been brought here. The walls were falling apart, the bricks old and dark, decorated with leaves and fungus. The doorway was open, a rectangular piece of metal lying on the outside which she assumed had once been a door. The windows were all either cracked, shattered or completely devoid of glass.

"They obviously have a flair for the dramatic," Ema said casually. "Either that or they're tighter than a photo finish."

Deston's lips twitched reluctantly. "You do realise the Gavinners will break up soon, right?"

Ema stopped, rounding on Deston in shock at the unanticipated revelation. _"What?"_

Deston raised an eyebrow at her, slowing down. "Well, we might have managed with one Gavinner behinds bars but two? Not a chance."

"What in the world are you talking about?" Ema demanded, confused by this sudden announcement and aggravated by Deston's ambiguity. "Why would another one of you be—?"

Deston smirked. "K's going to kill Raoul when he finds out that he brought you here."

Ema stared at her friend for a moment and then scowled, realising he was only joking. "Good," she said grumpily, falling into step beside him. "King Fop deserves it."

"Raoul got on your nerves did he?" he guessed.

"Damn right, he did! How do you stand him?"

He chuckled. "We ignore him – something you obviously haven't mastered yet, babe."

"Shut it, you over-grown canary," Ema said, swatting at him but the sudden movement made her head go crazy; she rocked on the spot and Deston grabbed onto her, taking her hand in his.

"Ema?" he said quickly, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she answered as normally as she could. "I just have—"

"No, that's it," he cut across her austerely. "I'm taking you home. You shouldn't be wan—"

"No!" Ema objected, pulling away and taking slow and steady breaths. She focused on his strict eyes. "Please, Des. I'm not going to do anything. I just want to look around with you guys. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Ema…"

"Plus, this will take my mind off things," she went on hurriedly. "Klavier's gone to see Kristoph and I—" Ema's mouth turned downwards when she recalled the distressed expression on Klavier's face and hoped he was okay. A desire to text him hit her and she thrust a hand inside her pocket to find her phone only to remember that she'd dropped it when she'd been attacked.

"Ah, Em," Deston sighed and gently put an arm around her, squeezing her lightly. "What am I going to do with you?"

She gave him a lopsided smile. "Put up with me?"

"You can stay." Deston smirked. "Dealing with Ray is punishment enough for your stubbornness, I suppose."

Ema's expression turned into a scowl again as they stepped over the threshold and Deston led her up a set of stone steps on the left. "Why is he so obnoxious?"

"Every band's got to have one of them, I guess," was Deston's amused reply.

"Where is he?" she asked, realising the red-head had disappeared while she and Seren talked to Mara.

"Upstairs," Deston said. "We're going to go give him a hand."

"I'd like to give him a big hand," Ema muttered, her fingers clasping tightly around Deston's as she skipped over a broken step. "Right across his mouth."

She heard Deston titter. "He _does_ have a speech impediment." When Ema glanced up at him inquiringly, he flashed her a smile. "His foot."

Huffing, Ema tried to let go of Deston's hand when they reached the landing but he held on tight, refusing to let go. No longer bothered by the physical contact (as she knew what his intentions were – as well as his past), Ema didn't raise any objections.

"I don't get why he has to be so insufferable," Ema continued her complaints as Deston took her up another set of stairs. "He makes Klavier look humble. He's so big-headed I bet he has to wash his hair at Niagara Falls."

Deston laughed again, going around a corner and glancing at her through dense hilarity. "Don't take any notice of him, babe," he said casually. "He's just too used to letting off esteem."

"You don't say," she replied drily. "Anybody ever thought of trying to calm the fruitcake down?"

"Nah. No point."

"No _point_?" she echoed incredulously, following him. "I can't imagine how much he has contributed to global warming with that trap of his and you—"

"You talking about anyone I know?"

Ema stopped in the doorway Deston was guiding her through and her narrowing eyes found Raoul crouched down in the middle of the room. Before she could answer him though, a strange feeling overcame her; the walls seem to expand and then shrink at once and the floor was suddenly no longer flat. Nausea enveloped her and she grabbed onto the door frame for support as she closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose. Deston was by her side again and before he could ask her any questions, she held up a hand.

"I'm fine," she said, drawing deep breaths and looking around the room, relieved when it remained ordinarily flat. Her attention was attracted to the shackles hanging from the wall and her stomach lurched. "I'm fine," she repeated faintly, tearing her eyes away from the bindings.

"Are you sure?" Deston said, alarm colouring his voice.

"Yeah," she reassured him, looking at Raoul who was still scrutinising at her from his position on the ground. "What you doing down there, Ray-Ray?"

Raoul's expression slackened into surprise. Ema grinned when Deston threw his head back and roared with laughter, pointing at Raoul insolently. "Ray-Ray's up to something alright!"

"What's Ray-Ray found on the floor?"

"Ray-Ray—"

"Can it, himbo," Raoul said curtly, standing up. "I ain't in the mood for your shit."

"Ray-Ray's pissed off at me," Deston explained, seeing Ema's expression. "He wanted to see the crime scene before Forensics hit it but I brought them beforehand and now they've all ran off with the evidence."

"And… _how_ is that a bad thing?" Ema said slowly. "They'll analyse all the evidence thoroughly and…" she trailed off when she saw Raoul shaking his head.

"There's obviously someone in Forensics who must be manipulating the evidence," he said with disgust. "I just don't believe these bastards never leave behind even a strand of hair. The only thing that makes sense is there's someone on the inside covering their tracks."

"Do you suspect anyone?"

"All and none," Raoul answered irately. "There's no use tryin'a find out who it is. I've got bigger fish to fry."

"But—"

"We have to prioritise, Em," Deston said, crossing his arms. "Even if we find the leak, it won't help us find the ring and they'll just put someone else in Forensics. The only way is to get to the root of the problem."

"And now we're just gonna have to wait till these bastards strike again because _Denson_ here—" Ema rolled her eyes at the growing similarities between Raoul and Daryan "—decided to call in your best friends to—"

"Lighten up, Adagio," Deston said, walking to the middle of the room and gesturing around at the room. "I'm sure with my intellect and your arrogance, we'll come to some genius conclusion." He glanced at Ema. "Sorry, Em, I'd include you but you're not allowed to do any more than watch us."

She ignored him, choosing to examine her surroundings instead; her eyes were constantly drawn to the manacles hanging from the wall. Hazy echoes of commands resounded in her mind though the words blended into each other like water and salt, dissolving distastefully in the pothole of her memories. Her eyes ran over the walls: chipped plaster, damp marks and peeling paint highlighted them unpleasantly. The floor was almost as bad and Ema wondered what could have made the dents where tiny pools of water had gathered.

Deston moved suddenly but Ema barely spared him a glance – her attention had been attracted by a chair that she now saw had been drawn against the wall next to the doorway. Almost as if she was in a dream, she reached out to touch it and a strange sense of déjà vue passed over her that rang of beauty and malice. In the nano-second that it took to blink, a mangled mess of images flickered that made sense only for that moment and when she opened her eyes again, all she could remember was a flash of white and auburn.

Ema shivered.

"You alright, Em?"

She nodded, turning away from the ominous furniture and continued her sweep of the room; the room was large and rectangular, with only two windows in two joint walls which made it obvious this was a corner room. Except for the deteriorating conditions, nothing stood out about the walls nor the floor and again she wondered why her captors had brought her to this building, this room.

She turned to Deston. "What is this place?"

"Headquarters for a security business," Raoul answered instead. "Some fire screwed the place up and it was left to rot."

"All the way out here?" she said sceptically.

"That's right. It was a security issue," Raoul answered vaguely. "Anyway, I don't care about what it was. I wanna know what it is _now. _I wanna know what's _here_," he emphasised, pointing at the ground. "Why were you brought _here_?"

She saw Deston throw Raoul an annoyed look but she wasn't bothered by the latter's obvious lack of tact. Several large, black boards rested against the far wall that she had only just noticed – they stood useless, camouflaged in the shadows of the room – and she moved toward them, pulling out a small torch from her bag as she went. Despite the light coming in from the small squares in the wall, she had trouble seeing clearly in the back of the room and she flicked the light up and down the boards, frowning. She didn't remember much but everything about the room induced a feeling in her but looking at these, Ema felt absolutely nothing. Was it possible she simply hadn't seen them? Or had they not been here then?

"What are these doing here?" she asked, turning to the other two who had joined her with lights of their own.

"Good question," Raoul said. "Damn well wish I knew the answer."

"I don't know what the boards are for," Deston said, pulling Ema back gently, "but I did find something interesting behind them."

Before they could question him, he moved past them and disappeared in the gap between two of the wooden boards. Ema glanced at Raoul who was frowning at Deston intently as he pulled back out; he was holding a small tub, unlabelled and dirty.

"I found aluminium powder," he said, glancing at it then back at the both of them. "Several tubs of it."

"_You_ found it?" Raoul said taking the container off Deston.

"Yep. Me." He gestured towards the boards again. "I got here first and I hid all of them so it would take a thorough search to find them. Of course, forensics said they'd be back to move these boards properly and I figured that would give me enough time to steal one without getting into trouble."

Ema didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused that Deston was playing games with the elite group she had once aspired to join. Torn between the two emotions, she simply shook her head and took the tub to examine it, intrigued.

"Why is this here? And what kind of an imbecile brings a highly reactive element to such a damp place?" Ema voiced her thoughts, looking at them accusingly as if it was their fault.

"I think the answer to the first question is simple, Em," Deston said, running a hand through his hair. "Aluminium's great for doing all sorts of illegal stuff. But why bring it in a potentially hazardous environment? I'm guessing they were just using this place to hide some stuff and when they cleared this place out, they forgot to take this."

"If Sloan was behind this, I wouldn't be surprised," Raoul sneered. "Guy's a prize idiot."

"Hey Deston," Ema said suddenly brightening with an idea. "Pass me another one, would you?"

"Sure," he said as he stepped back in between the boards.

"Wait, wait!" she exclaimed, stopping him in her tracks. He paused to look at her as she passed the first tub to Raoul and pulled a pair of gloves out which she then threw at Deston. "Wear these. I want to see if we can lift some fingerprints off them."

Deston flashed her a bright smile while pulling them on and went about extracting another container from the floor in between the boards. He approached her, holding it in his hands gingerly and thrust it towards her but she shook her head, rummaging around in her bag again, excitement coursing through her. Who would have thought she would get to work? And Deston wasn't putting up any complaints either…

"Keep hold of it," Ema instructed him as she pulled a bottle out from her bag along with a small fingerprinting brush. "I only have one set of gloves."

"Huh," Raoul sounded, turning her hand around so that he could read the label. "Not your usual fingerprinting stuff."

"I like to keep back ups on me," Ema explained, shaking him off with an irritated sigh and opening the bottle. "This stuff's great for latent fingerprints. There's no escaping the steely clutches of science, I tell you!"

Barely able to believe her luck and unaware of Deston's half-exasperated, half-indulgent look, she set about dabbing at the tub. Both Gavinners were quiet as she worked, watching her with serious eyes which gave way to disappointment when she straightened, her own face set in frustration. "Nothing!" she cried. "I didn't find a single print. It's smoother than a baby's backside!"

"Don't sweat it, babe," Raoul said in a surprisingly consoling voice, handing her the one he was holding which she placed in her satchel, along with the rest of her equipment. "I'd have been more surprised if we found something."

"I'm going to take this anyway," she said, pointing at the container Deston held. "I can analyse it."

"Oh no, you don't!" Deston said, lifting it out of her reach. "You've done more than enough today."

"Oh, get a grip, you canary," Ema snapped, arms akimbo and frustrated that the overprotective Deston had emerged from his confines. "I'm just going to be in a lab and—"

"No, Ema."

"I'm the only one you guys can trust," Ema insisted. "We need all the clues we can get and I have enough knowledge to do what's needed." She paused, staring into Deston's torn countenance. "I'm just going to be carrying out some tests on a very _safe_ and _stable_ surface," she said slowly. "Not getting into a gunfight with some lunatic."

"She's got a point," Raoul said, looking at Deston. "She's the only one we _can_ trust who can do this."

The other Gavinner stared at her then gave in with a nod, lowering his arms. Ema, relieved, extracted an evidence bag. He lowered it into the plastic confines and removed his gloves. When she had safely stowed the evidence away, she looked up at Deston who quickly looked away as if he'd been caught watching her. She raised an eyebrow, biting the inside of her cheek.

"You have to rest up first, Ema," Deston said, walking away from her and looking out of the small window. "If I find out you've gone anywhere near work, I'm going to tell K."

Ema crossed her arms. "And that's a threat, how exactly?"

Raoul smirked. "The dude's gonna lock you up and seduce the—"

"Adagio!" Deston said sharply, turning around to look at him while a rush of heat stained Ema's cheeks. "Watch your mouth, would you? Ema's not a groupie."

Raoul's smile grew as he turned to Ema. "Apologies, ma'am."

"You know, you could be a real charmer?" Ema said. "Yeah. You could be a real charmer, Raoul – if it wasn't for your personality."

"Ya think?"

She marched up to Raoul and jabbed him in the chest angrily. "You've got more nerve than an infected tooth!"

"Yaow!" Raoul laughed. "The detective's wit is on fire today!"

"Wish she would set you on fire," they heard Deston mutter.

"What the hell are you doin', leaning outta the window like that?" Raoul drawled, approaching him.

"Everyone's gone," Deston answered. "Looks like Seren's love interest drew him away."

"Nice to see he's got his priorities straight," Raoul scoffed.

Ema ignored them both and took another look around the room, wishing she would remember something – _anything_ – so that she would be able to help. Yet, as she glanced between the shackles and the chair, the initial feelings she'd had were no longer there and she sighed, dissatisfied.

"Hang on a minute," Ema said, a deep frown growing between her emerald eyes. "Didn't you say this used to be headquarters for security?"

"Yeah," Raoul said, looking at her.

"Then what the hell are these chains doing here?" she said, pointing at them.

Deston moved to them and crouched to the ground, lifting them up with a disgusted look. "They were fixed to the wall recently."

Ema's eyes widened and a disbelieving laugh escaped her as she took in his meaning. "You're telling me these were put here just for me?" Deston nodded. "That's crazy!"

"It _is_ a ridiculous thing to do if we assume the reason for your kidnapping was a warning."

"I wish I could remember what the hell happened," Ema said miserably.

"Don't push yourself, Ema," Deston said in a gentle voice. "None of this is—"

"What the hell's that in your pocket, Cavatin?" Raoul interrupted sharply.

Before Deston could react, Raoul had yanked something out of his back pocket. Ema was surprised that the unmoving Deston seemed barely disturbed by the intrusion. He watched Raoul with an almost impassive expression; the red-head was turning the sheet over and Ema was intrigued by the messiness of the texture – it was crumpled and marred with dirt.

"What is it?" Ema asked, glancing between the two.

"It's blank," Raoul said, looking down at Deston. "And don't tell me you're carrying it around just in case you need to jot down a phone number."

"I wasn't going to," Deston answered casually, still not rising from his position. He held a hand out for the paper and Raoul gave it back. "I found it lying around so I hid it from forensics. I thought it might be important."

Raoul's mouth curled in mockery. "You thought an empty piece of paper would be important?"

Deston shrugged, staring at it. "Gut feeling."

Ema crouched down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder, and squinted at the paper. "Where did you find it?" she asked.

"Outside in the hallway," he answered. "The forensic guys were too interested in the boards and I was so focused on making sure they didn't dig too much that when I saw this—" he shook the paper "—I just picked it up and stuffed it in my pocket. I wanted to get inside and make sure nobody tri—"

Ema looked at Deston when he broke off abruptly: he was staring at the paper as if he'd realised something and Ema nearly jumped out of her skin when his hand shot out to Raoul.

"Lighter!" he commanded.

She looked at Raoul but he was digging around in his pocket and then he'd thrust a silver, metallic object in Deston's hand. Ema's interest soon turned to a roll of the eyes when she saw the Gavinner's insignia engraved into the side of the lighter. Much too interested in what Deston was up, Ema decided to reserve her comment about Raoul's arrogance for another time.

"Des…?"

"Let's see if science will shed a little light here, Em," he said, flicking the lighter open. For a moment, she thought he was going to set the paper on fire but he simply held the flickering flame underneath, moving it back and forth. Ema watched for a bewildered moment and it was just when she realised what he was thinking that light — albeit clear — brown characters appeared on the paper: _**ed it**_.

"What the hell is that?" Raoul said, leaning closer.

"Invisible ink," Ema explained excitedly, unable to stop watching Deston move the lighter under the paper. "There are certain chemicals that don't leave a mark on paper but respond to things like heat. Judging by the colour," she added as they darkened, "I'd hazard a guess at ammonium chloride."

"Somebody wrote on this with invisible ink and then left it lying around?" Raoul said. "What's that all about?"

"We're going to find out," Deston said. Ema's eyes widened as the sentences stretched in length and height until there were six lines haphazardly splayed down the centre of the page.

"Is that it?" Ema asked in a hushed tone.

"Looks like it," Deston said, sweeping the edges once more with the heat and then flicking the lighter closed. A silence overtook them as they stared at the words, all three of them equally infuriated by the riddle that met their eyes:

_I set the snake of destruction on him_

_but he_

_picked it up_

_and _

_wrapped it around himself_

— _R.R._


	29. Exhumed Defiance

Exhumed Defiance

"Fabulous," Raoul snapped, breaking the silence. "We have a poetic ringleader. Should have known. Women always do the stupi—"

"Oh shut up," Ema snapped. "You're no prince charming either."

Raoul snorted. "I don't recall pretending I was, Detective."

Ema was about to make a scathing remark but Deston stood up and she forgot all about it. He was running tanned fingers over the words and walking to the window where Ema followed him, examining his expression to try and understand what he was thinking. What Klavier had told her resurfaced to the forefront of her mind and she was alarmed — did the riddle apply to him somehow? Was it a taunting reminder of Raina's death? The possibility left Ema with an overwhelming need to return Deston's earlier embrace but she knew he wouldn't appreciate her sympathy, no matter what her intention.

Ema had thought her friendship with Tessa had been strong — and it was in its own way — but what she had developed with Deston transcended even her own definition and belief of it. Where she'd give her life for her friends, for Deston she would sacrifice anything, just as she would for Klavier and Lana. The revelation of her own feelings towards Deston didn't shock her nor make her insecure about her love for Klavier. There was no hesitation and no confusion: Deston was her best friend. A friend who had risked his life for hers, who had sought to unite her with Klavier and see a loving conclusion in spite of his own broken heart. The more she saw of his actions and the more she learnt about him, the stronger the fire of protection burned inside of her.

And as these thoughts whirred in her mind, Ema felt her heart expand. It stretched in her chest, pushing aside all her fears and all her thoughts until there was only one conviction left: she would help him avenge his lover's death.

"This looks odd," Deston said, snapping Ema out of her thoughts and she smiled inwardly, drily amused that he had no idea what she was thinking. Shaking off her musings, she glanced at the paper when he held it up to the light to take a better look.

"What do you mean, 'odd'?" Raoul asked.

"As if it's been written with a non-writing hand."

"You mean like a right-handed person writing with their left hand?" Ema said, scrutinising it and realising he was right: the letters were _too _uneven and scattered.

"Yeah…" Deston nodded, lowering the paper and leaning against the wall. "I don't know if someone did this because they couldn't use that hand or if they were trying to distort their handwriting."

Ema was resentfully impressed by their opponent's advanced thinking. "It's clever," she remarked. "It messes with a handwriting analysis."

"What's with the dramatic crap?" Raoul said, eloquent as ever.

"Do you think it was left for us?" Ema asked.

Deston leaned into the window and continued to stare at the bit of paper. Ema could see him read the message, his lips silently moving around the words. "That would be the assumption, wouldn't it?" he said in a low voice. "It seems to be the only thing that makes sense. The problem is what—?"

For the second time that day, Deston stopped speaking suddenly and Ema looked at him questioningly, wondering if another brainwave had hit him. His head tilted to the side — so slightly that she barely noticed it — and then he stiffened, his back arching. He pushed himself away from the window and stuffed the paper in his pocket, glancing first at Raoul then Ema.

"Hey," he said in a quiet voice to her. "Give me that tub of aluminium you have. The unbagged one." When Ema only frowned at him, he shook his head and a stern look came over him. "Now, please."

Hesitantly, Ema lifted the container out of her bag and handed it to him, wondering what he needed it for but then he pulled her close. "What—?" she started, utterly baffled by his behaviour.

"Ema," he interrupted her in a voice barely above a whisper. "Show me that bottle of fingerprinting powder you were using."

Raoul came to stand by them and his expression was so serious that Ema was more than a little worried; the red-head was watching Deston closely as if trying to read him but the latter's face was impassive.

"Trust me, Em."

Without another word, she lifted the bottle out of her satchel and handed it to him with unsteady fingers, now starting to shake without really knowing the reason. Deston scanned the label and nodded before handing both containers to Raoul. Without an explanation — and much to Ema's wide-eyed surprise — he yanked at his sleeve and tore it right off his shoulder. When he retrieved both powders from Raoul, Deston cocked his head at the window and his friend turned towards it with a dawning look of understanding.

"What are you doing?" Ema gasped when Deston tipped the contents of the bottle on the ground till it was half-full while Raoul walked to the window.

Deston didn't answer — he simply opened the tub and spilled the aluminium into the fingerprinting powder. Ema looked at Raoul with a frown when he sighed; pushing himself away and turning to Deston with a low sound of irritation, he glanced at the bottle the drummer was shaking and snorted.

"Do you know what the hell you're doing?"

Deston raised an eyebrow as if he couldn't quite believe Raoul had asked him that. "I always know what I'm doing, Adagio."

"Good."

Raoul brushed past her but Ema only glared at Deston suspiciously. "How long were you inhaling that aluminium?" she asked. "Because it's obviously gone to your head."

"Keep your voice down, Em," Deston instructed her.

Before she could defy him and truly vocalise her frustration at his weirdness, Raoul marched across the room to where the chair sat and picked it up. Then, as Ema watched with shock and mounting confusion, he raised it above his head by the legs and brought it crashing down on the ground. Ema jumped as it broke, wooden pieces scattering on the ground noisily.

"So much for being quiet," Deston muttered, now wrapping the torn sleeve around the rim of the bottle.

"What the _hell _are you two doing?" Ema cried.

"We…" Raoul said, kicking at the seat of the chair, "…are arming ourselves."

"Left your gun at home?" Deston asked nonchalantly.

"Yep," was the reply. He kicked one more time at the furniture until the leg broke off completely. With Ema's disbelieving eyes on him, Raoul lifted it off the floor and examined it critically. "Who needs a cannon? This'll do beautifully."

"See your buddy?"

"Yeah," Raoul said with a smirk as he lazily placed the stick on his shoulder. "I can't wait to get inside that brainless cranium."

Ema had been watching the exchange with a surreal sense of being; the nuttiness of the situation had her mind spinning and she couldn't take anymore. "Would you mind telling me why you're mixing that stuff together when you _know_ it's dangerous!" she exploded, gesturing at the bottle in Deston's hand. "And why are _you_—" she rounded on Raoul "—_breaking_ furniture for—"

"Ema," Deston said gently, taking her by the shoulder. "There are some guys down there," he pointed at the window, "and considering one of them is the guy who kidnapped you, I don't think they're friends."

"W-What?" Ema spluttered, looking between the two of them and suddenly seeing the weapons they had both manufactured. _Oh my God…_ Her heart skipped a beat at Deston's mini-bomb and Raoul's caveman club. _"Neither of you have your guns?"_

"Nope. Don't worry, though," Raoul said, swinging the make-shift bat around. "I'm just as good with this."

"How many are there?" Ema demanded, looking from one to the other.

"Three as far as I saw but I bet there's more," Deston said, gingerly placing the lid on the bottle. Ema eyed it warily, seeing the string of cloth that swung back and forth from the rim.

"Is that going to work?"

Deston flashed her a devilish smile. "It'll blow their asses to kingdom come, babe."

"What are we—"

"What's this 'we' business?" Deston cut across her straight away. "You're staying up here till we've taken care of this."

"_What?"_ Ema said sharply. "I don't—"

"What exactly are you going to do, Ema?" Raoul asked bluntly. "You're still unwell _and_ you're unarmed."

"You seriously expect me to sit around up here and wait for you to kill or be killed?" Ema looked at them incredulously.

"Oh babe," Raoul laughed cockily, bringing his foot crashing down on another chair leg; it broke with a resounding _crack!_ and she winced at the sound. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he picked it up and threw it at Deston who caught it easily with one hand. "We aren't gonna die today."

Ema's chest contracted in paranoia as she glanced at Deston, so at ease despite the obvious threat – her troubled eyes darted over his hands as he pocketed the lethal weapon and ran his fingers over the length of the wooden stick. Now that Raoul had said what he had, she was more frightened than ever — after all, wasn't it when you were so confident about something that life dealt you a crappy hand?

Seeing her watching him the way she was, Deston smiled again and pulled her into a hug. "Don't worry, Em," he said into her hair. "I've had worse odds."

"Oh, is that supposed to make me feel better?" Ema said grouchily.

"Well — yeah."

"I want to come with you."

"We don't have the time to argue this so I'm gonna put it bluntly, Ema," Raoul said impatiently. "Me and Deston need a clear head and having to worry about you is only going to increase our chances of getting killed. So you're going to stay here, safe and sound, while we go out and get rid of these guys. Alright?"

Ema's heart sank horrendously when the truth of his words sank in. She looked helplessly between Raoul and Deston, the latter throwing his friend a particularly nasty look before he turned back to her with a gentle smile. "Stay here, Em. I need to know you're okay."

Unable to disprove Raoul's logic, Ema watched powerlessly as the boys glanced at each other, nodded and then swept through the doorway. Deston paused and glanced back at her for a moment, his gray eyes sweeping her in a way that only intensified her fear. "Stay out of sight," he whispered — and then he was gone.

Ema stood there, not knowing what to do; every muscle in her body was stretched taut and she was afraid to move for fear of missing any sound that would tell her Deston and Raoul had encountered their attackers. How could she stay there and wait for them to endanger themselves? Yet how could she help them without putting their lives at risk? Ema's shaking hands came up to rub her arms and she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and taking a moment to compose herself.

_Just take deep breaths. Remember who they are. They're successful in their agencies for a reason. Keep your head on straight. Don't let your mind become slave to your emotions._

Instead, her mind became slave to her body: Ema found herself turning on the spot and moving to the window the Gavinners had both seen the men from. She leaned out of the window a little and resentment surged through her when she saw four — not three — figures, fully dressed in black, standing outside the entrance. They seemed to be signalling at each other and from what she could see, two of them were bickering; their violent nods and hand gestures were keeping them busy.

She leaned further out, trying to see what they were arguing over but before she could make anything out, she caught sight of the door frame. Horror struck her when she realised that Raoul and Deston's exit would land them right in between, leaving them vulnerable.

"If any fops die, it's going to be at _my_ hands," Ema whispered, whirling on the spot and marching across the room to the splintered remains of the chair. There, she kicked at it, marvelling at how difficult it was to separate the leg when Raoul had made it look so easy. "Stupid—macho—twit!" she grunted before smiling with satisfaction when she succeeded in breaking the wooden limb off. Lifting it up and feeling its weight in her hand, she examined it with a smirk. "It's a good thing he annoyed me so much… Yeah," she added, nodding thoughtfully. "I'll just imagine I'm bashing Ray's head in."

A sudden, dull noise outside caught her attention and she was halfway to the window when she realised it would waste time and though she was unsure as to what to do next, she followed her instinct: it led her to the hallway outside and she descended the stony stairs, taking care to tread lightly. She didn't want to be heard — if the attackers didn't kill her, Deston would.

_I know you told me to stay put, Des, _she thought going down the steps cautiously, the stick held close to her body. _But I can't stay here and let you risk your life. _How could she? Deston had already saved her so many times. How could she ask him to do it again?

Another sound echoed in the building somewhere and she hesitated, having reached the bottom. Before her were another set of crumbling, gray stairs and a hallway both to her left and right. She knew the right led to the entrance Deston had brought her through and that was the one the bastards were guarding. Knowing a building as large as this one couldn't only have one way out, Ema turned left with her grip now tighter on the bat.

The scrape of footsteps on concrete caused her insides to lurch unpleasantly but she ignored it, knowing there was no time for hesitation. Ema made her way through the twisting hallway, following it with a quickening pace. Every so often, odd bursts of light hit her head, disorientating her and she had to stop and steady herself before resuming her course. Everything in the building was so dismal and dank with its dull colour, the echoing dripping, the fungi, the spider webs…

_Calm, Ema, _she reminded herself as dark apprehension and fear of the unknown coursed in her bloodstream._ Stay calm._

There was still no sound of the struggle her ears were anticipating and she wondered what Deston and Raoul were doing… where were they? They hadn't just… _left_ her had they?

_Don't be so ridiculous! _she chided herself. Of course, they wouldn't leave her…

A darker, more horrifying possibility grabbed hold of her: _what if they were already unconscious or dead? _Her legs turned to lead at the prospect. Then, as if it had just been waiting for her to lose faith again, Klavier's voice resonated in her mind: _Deston is a fearsome adversary… _

She repeated it inwardly as she began to walk again and it was only a moment later that her thoughts scattered — she made another turn and saw an empty doorway. With the makeshift club in her hand, Ema hurried to the exit.

_Alrighty,_ she thought, pressing her back against the frame and breathing as deeply as she could without making a sound. _Let's see what we can see…_

Ema tilted her head, ignoring the heaviness it caused, and peeked around the frame: there was no one there. All that stretched out across her was endless concrete with the sky in the horizon. Wishing she knew where she was and what the hell was going on, Ema growled, leaning her head against the frame, and closed her eyes. "Get it together, Skye," she whispered. "Get a grip…"

Before she could do anything else however, she heard light-as-air footsteps outside and their proximity sent her heart racing. Despite her anxiousness, Ema instantly stepped out of the exit and moved down the building, her back pressed as close to the wall as she could keep it. The danger had thickened. Whatever was going on, the clash was going to happen soon — she could _taste_ it on the air.

She paused at the corner to compose herself. Her body was reacting intensely to the imminent threat; it was trying to slow her down. Her arms were getting tired, her head was beginning to spin and her legs suddenly felt like jelly. _Why am I so afraid? _she asked herself. It wasn't like this was the first time she'd found herself in a dangerous situation… So why was she so wound up now? Why couldn't she stop thinking about Raoul and Deston and what would happen if—

_What the hell was that sound?_

Ema froze as a shout echoed in the vicinity and her blood ran cold. Who was that?_ Is it Deston?_ Paranoid images flickered in her mind's eye as she envisioned Deston, hurt, unable to defend himself… lying on the ground, bleeding to death…

_That's it._

Unable to take anymore and sick to death of waiting for something to happen, Ema swung around the corner impulsively—

—only to find Deston standing there, the wooden club held up as if he was ready to swing it.

His eyes widened in surprise for a split second before narrowing furiously. _"Dammit, Ema!" _he hissed, lowering the stick. "I could have _killed_ you! What the _hell _are you doing? _I told you to stay upstairs!_"

"Where's Raoul?" Ema asked, ignoring his chastisement.

Deston lowered his head and she almost recoiled in fear when she saw him shaking with barely suppressed rage. Without warning, he tugged on her arm and moved forward stealthily leaving her with no choice but to follow him: his hand was wrapped around her wrist like a steel band. Ema kept quiet, knowing he was tense and ready for a fight… not to mention extremely annoyed at her. Deston led her to the corner where he leaned forward to peer around it before withdrawing quickly and staring at the ground for some moments. Then he cast her a sideways look, his stormy eyes raging with lightning fury.

Ema gulped.

"Raoul's going around the other side," he said tightly. "Do you think you can keep yourself safe long enough for us to take these bastards out?"

"But—"

"No _buts_, Ema!" Deston said harshly. "Stay here or so help me God, I'm going to strangle you my—"

"Okay, okay!" she said quickly, backing away. "I'll stay."

Deston stared at her for a moment as if to ascertain her honesty then sighed. "Babe, I know you mean well but I really need you to _stay here_. If you can't do it for yourself then do it for Klavier — for me." Ema's eyes widened. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you and K… it would destroy him. Please. Just listen to me."

"Deston…"

"Ema!" he snapped, interrupting her again. _"Stay here!"_

Ema's shoulders slumped as shame and rejection washed over her and she looked away, biting her lip to stop it from wobbling. She knew she was being very childish for someone who wanted to go out there and fight armed men but Deston's severe reprimand had brought out the petulant side to her.

"Are you going to stay here or not?" he growled.

"Fine!"

"Good. Now hold this."

He handed her the club and whipped out the bottle from one pocket and the lighter from the other, flicking it open as it rose. Ema watched him stare at the naked flame for a long moment wondering what he was waiting for when all of a sudden there was a shout from the other side:

"Hey, boys!"

Ema's mouth dropped when she heard Raoul's distant voice but before she could do anymore than gape at the cockiness of his tone, Deston moved. As if that was exactly what he'd been waiting for, Deston smirked (much to Ema's chagrin) letting the flame kiss the cloth and, without waiting, he swung it around the corner amidst alarmed shouts and angry yells.

"_Stay here or I'll kill you myself!"_ Deston threatened as he yanked both cudgels from her hand and disappeared. Ema stood there for several seconds and listened to their attacker's voices rise in volume, shouting profanities.

"What the fu—?"

"_SON OF A—!"_

"I'd run if I were you!" Deston called.

Despite his warning, Ema stepped around the corner just as there was a loud explosion and she saw a flash of yellow get swallowed up by the smoke. Heart in her throat and coughing against the acrid smell of the explosion, Ema waited helplessly to see what was happening. A sizzling sound caught her attention and through the smoke she saw its source: a raging fire.

"Oh no, you don't!" Raoul snapped followed by a loud grunt and a thud. Ema squinted, trying to find him but the smoke was too thick. She covered her mouth with one hand while trying to clear the air with the other, half-cursing and half-praising Deston for his genius move.

"You wanna play _games_, kid?" came the reply, gravelly and rough.

"Nah. Games entail rules, Sloan!" Raoul mocked though Ema detected a strain on his voice. "And I—don't—do—so—well—with—_those_!"

_What the hell is that?_

Ema squinted to try and see what was moving through the thinning fumes and her eyes widened when she saw Deston, her muscles spasming with shock — one bat was on fire and he was swinging it around fiercely, pushing back the two men trying to overtake him.

Her swift eyes ran over the scene in an almost dreamlike state: there was a black patch where the fire raged — the remnants of the burning powders — and next to it lay an unconscious man. Then, her attention turned to the men Deston was fending off and the man Raoul was fighting with.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him — he was the one she'd seen in the parking lot the day of her attack! Was all this happening because of her? Had they come back to finish her off? _Were Deston and Raoul risking their lives for her? _

"You're the kinda guys who give failure a bad name!" Deston laughed, jumping away from one of the men. "You can't even creep up on us properly! What makes you think you'll beat us?"

Their only reply was to strike harder and Ema froze when she saw their weapons: a gun and a knife. Surely, _surely_, Deston wasn't going to battle them both? Ema wanted to say something — to shout at him — but words failed. How could he fend off bullets with his bats? How could he dodge them when he had a knife to watch out for as well? Yet she need not have worried; she watched with rising elation and terror as Deston ducked and weaved around their attacks, turning his makeshift bats into extensions of himself as he beat them back again and again. Every time the gun rose, Deston was there to hammer it down, its purpose never finding the chance to complete itself.

As she watched, her fear and admiration mingled in a toxic blend that rendered her incapable of coherent thought. Despite the very clear danger of the situation, Ema couldn't help but notice Deston's form, his almost flawless attacks; he was like an unstoppable force of nature, fluid and fast, powerful and light, silent and strong… He wasn't stopping to breathe, to rest, to _think_… and just as she likened him to the mythical heroes of old, Ema felt the strangest sense of déjà vu hit her again.

_What is this feeling? _Ema thought, touching her head lightly, still watching Deston leap and jump, twist and turn… _Why do I feel like I've seen this all before…?_

A gasp escaped her as Deston suddenly doubled down, vaulting sideways to avoid the gun that fired, and brought the fiery cudgel down on the other assailant's arm. The man dropped the blade with a cry as Deston stood over him, pausing for a split second with a smirk.

"_Catch, Ray!"_ he shouted, kicking the knife through his legs and right at Raoul's feet.

For a moment, Ema's eyes were drawn to the red-head when he fell to the ground, fearing he'd been hurt but then he spun a kick at Sloan's feet, simultaneously swiping up the knife, and — to Ema's amazement — flipped backwards onto his feet, laughter in his face.

"Not much for conversation, are you boys?" Deston goaded.

Her eyes snapped back to him and she was almost frightened of him; he was moving again, his eyes were ablaze with the heat of the fight and though he laughed there was something else, something she couldn't understand…

Both men were approaching him warily and despite the horror of the moment, Ema could not help but admire Deston's confident stance. He stood before them, his feet apart, his back arched and his arms swinging lazily as he eyed the man with the gun; Ema's heart stopped when she saw the man raise his firearm and Deston did nothing except stare at it, uninterested.

_Move, Deston! _her mind screamed. _Move! MOVE!_

But he didn't. He remained comfortably in one place, his eyes fixed intently on the ascent of the gun while his hands continued to twirl the bats; he was perfectly at ease, as if this was exactly where he wanted to be and he had the upper hand. The knife-less man was still approaching Deston from the side and when he refused to acknowledge the bastard, a horrifying idea came to her: _was he trying to get himself killed? _The possibility died, however, when the corner of Deston's mouth lifted into a devious smile.

And then he moved so fast, she could barely follow him.

Suddenly the man stalking him was on the ground in a groaning heap, another heart-stopping shot echoed through the air and then Deston was at the gunman's feet, the bats spinning hard and fast into his ankles. The shooter lost his balance and Deston turned his blunt weapons upwards, smashing them into the arm and sending the gun flying through the air. Astonished beyond words, Ema could do little more than stare as Deston whirled on the spot and struck his opponent in the knees, knocking the man's legs out from under him.

"I did say run, you know," Deston smirked, standing over the unarmed man as he fell to the ground with a loud thud.

_Oh…my…God… _she mouthed wordlessly, barely able to believe what she'd just seen. _So cool…_

Ema's exhilaration at her friend's victory didn't last long: the man behind Deston got to his knees, clutching his stomach, and stumbled. She wanted to scream a warning to Deston, wanted him to turn around and see that the man was heading for the gun but she couldn't speak.

And then — as though possessed — the detective extracted two bottles from her bag, glanced at them and then threw them together into the fire. Even as they whistled through the air and before they'd landed, Ema was sprinting across the ground at top speed, ignoring the way Deston shouted her name, her eyes fixed on one task and one task alone — to get to the gun before her enemy could.

Her lips pursed over gritted teeth as there was another loud bang when the chemicals met fire and the air around them momentarily thickened with sickening, pungent smoke and among shouts, cries and grunts, Ema leapt at the gun.

"EMA!"

"_Get back here, bitch!"_

She landed with a heavy thump on the ground that jolted her head and her hands scraped empty ground. She cursed, turning around to see who had dared to grab her and found the knife-wielding psycho pulling hard on her lab coat. Ema didn't think — she simply shoved her hand back inside her bag, pulled out the first thing she could lay her hands on and threw it hard in his face. His grip slackened with a cry but when she tried to get away, his hold tightened again and he pulled her closer.

"_Stupid wh—"_

"_GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER!"_ Deston bellowed and Ema saw him whip around on her captor with the fires of hell in his eyes but before he could take another step, the man at his feet grabbed hold of his legs.

"_DESTON!"_

Incensed at the sight of her friend being attacked, Ema was filled with almost superhuman strength. This time she went for an old-fashioned manoeuvre and a kick to the face loosened his grasp. Her outstretched fingers finally wrapped around the handle of the gun and she spun onto her back, pointing at the stumbling man above her. He was holding his nose and glaring at her murderously so when he advanced on her, Ema didn't hesitate — she pointed the gun at his leg and shot.

He staggered, doubling over with a cry, clutching his leg but Ema didn't wait to see what happened; she looked to Deston who had overpowered the man and was holding a bat to his neck.

Her wrath focused on Sloan, who was still fighting Raoul and moving with incredible speed for a man of his stature. There was a split moment of hesitation — though it felt like forever — when apprehension took hold and she was fearful she would hit her friend by accident but then Sloan made a mistake: his hand shot out at Raoul's neck, his fingers digging into the throat, and his leg made contact with Raoul's stomach. Hatred bubbled in her heart for him when she saw the red-head gasp.

_He kidnapped me… stole days of my life… and now he's trying to steal my friend's life… _

And she knew that no matter what happened, her aim would not miss. When her finger pressed down on the trigger, the world seemed to slow and all that spun through her bloodstream was the intensity of her love for her friends and the desire to end anyone who would harm them. The speeding bullet carried the poison of her fury and hit Sloan in the back, halting his attack. He fell to the ground, his cry of rage mixing with the echo of the gunshot.

"Ema!"

Lowering her arms, she tore her eyes away from Raoul who was rising to his feet, and let her head fall back, unable to believe what had just happened. Her hands dropped against her stomach and the gun clattered to the ground. The rush of the adrenalin slowly left her and her breathing calmed until she could feel a heaviness pressing on her chest, could feel the strain on her limbs finally beginning to register. Her body felt sore and tender against the hard earth. The pain began to spread along her nerves like water that was at once uncomfortable and delicious — but it was welcome. It signalled the end.

_It's over…_

Turning to look at Deston, a small smile fluttered on her lips when he suddenly bludgeoned the man at his feet and ran over to her, intense fear in his features. He pulled her upright and Ema's head rocked as if everything inside it had been rattled loose.

_Meh. What else is new…_

Her body felt heavy. Her arms grew limp and her head lolled. A moment later, her knees gave out but Deston was there to lift her into his embrace.

"You're one rebellious little broad, Skye," he snapped angrily and she smiled.

Through the heavy eyes and creeping darkness, Ema tilted her head to examine him for injuries. Aside from blood trickling through his busted lip, and the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek, there was nothing for her to worry about.

"Do you have to look like a fopping rock-star even when you're injured?" she said, faintly annoyed. She wasn't sure if she imagined his laughter as he carried her — overpowering relief was flooding her like a sedative that insisted on sending her to that comforting darkness…

Just as a loud and offensive sound filled her ears, she felt him shift and her eyes opened a little. The drowsiness abated and she scowled in the glare of the sky.

_Fop of a Skye… No, wait — sky… Why am I calling myself a fop?_

"Over here!"

_Was that Deston's voice? Huh, maybe his larynx got damaged…_

Ema tried to follow the sound of the noise but her head was no longer heeding her commands; her neck was lifeless, her lids falling and all surrounding sounds were getting drowned out until they were a far-away hum. She felt lighter than air, like a leaf on a gentle breeze… her body tingled pleasantly and her muscles were relaxing, melting into themselves as though coaxing fingers were moulding them into butter…

"_Verdammte Scheiße! EMA!"_

She smiled at the sound and lifted a hand. _Ahh… Klavier…_

"_What the hell happened to her?" _

She could feel his large hand cover hers and suddenly she was enveloped in a different embrace, one just as strong, just as comforting but somehow different… She turned her face into the warmth, wishing she could see his face but unable to control her mutinous eyelids…

"_Ema? Ema! Answer me!"_

She smiled again. "I'm fine, fop," she whispered as her eyes closed. "I'm… fine… now you're here…"

"I have you, Ema," he said softly.

"And I have you," she murmured in response.

Later, he would tease her about her remark and she would curse herself endlessly for having ever uttered those word while Snackooing him within an inch of his life. But now, as she was set adrift on the bliss of his warmth, Ema only cared about one thing: she had finally found something to fight for, to die for — and she was in his arms.

"Silly Ema…" he breathed, dropping a kiss on her forehead and she was jolted out of the enveloping darkness for a moment.

A chuckle somehow managed to escape her and she lifted a hand, blindly searching for his face. When her fingers touched his skin, she tapped him lightly, not entirely sure herself what she was doing. He leaned into her touch and she felt his cheek rise in what could only be a smile. "Silly Klavier… worrying for no reason…"

"Any man would worry when his life is threatened," he said quietly. "And you are my heart. You are my soul."

Her hand drifted down his neck to his shoulder and she smiled. Something inside her chest was expanding… expanding… she could feel it encase her heart and spread through her body, pushing out the pain and soreness. The darkness receded and she finally found the strength to look at him.

"I'm glad you're here," she said softly, gazing into the soulful oceans of his eyes.

"I will always be here, Ema," he said, smiling tenderly. "For as long as I live, I will be by your side."

Ema sighed, resting her head against his shoulder again. "Always?"

"Always."


	30. He Who Perseveres

He Who Perseveres

'.'

You turned the wheel of my life, round and round;

From loss to joy and love to pain,

From fear to hope and sorrow to joy —

From life to death and back again.

.'.

_Simon smiled at the mischievous smile on Gale's face and cocked an eyebrow at her. She was standing in the middle of the room, arms akimbo and grinning for all she was worth. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and tilted his head back, smirking at her. _

"_You sure you want to play this game with me, Gale?" Simon said. "I don't hold back. I __**won't **__hold back – even if you are David's girlfriend."_

"_Good!" Gale clapped, pulling a chair out from under the dining table and gesturing for Simon to do the same. "I don't want you to hold back! I want to get this game started."_

_Simon observed her for a moment and then followed suit, planting himself opposite her. His dark eyes searched her face as she beamed at him openly and he noticed what David saw in her – she was radiant, like the ray of sunshine after years of stormy nights. Simon had only known her for two weeks and already he was feeling the effects of her nearness, the influence of her personality. She made him feel light and took away the darkness in his life. She was interesting and funny, never hesitating to seize the opportunity to make him laugh as thought to do so was her purpose in her life. When he was near her and talking to her, he felt like the centre of the universe._

"_Okay, I go first," Gale decided and Simon's smirk grew. He gestured for her to go ahead and laughed when she drummed at the table excitedly. "Most embarrassing moment?"_

_Simon thought about that for a moment and visibly cringed as a memory flew through his mind. "You sure you want to hear this? It might be too much for your delicate ears."_

_Gale laughed and pointed at him. "After seeing __**that**__ shudder, I'm even more curious."_

"_All right," he sighed. "A couple of years ago, my girlfriend of the time—"_

"_You had a girlfriend?" Gale interrupted. "Like, a girl you didn't cheat on?"_

_Simon raised an eyebrow. "I __**have**__ had girlfriends. I just like to taste a variety of women. Kind of like chocolate."_

"_Women are like chocolates?" Gale said, unimpressed. "Aren't you the charmer."_

"_Hang on!" Simon said with a laugh. "I though this was a get-to-know-each-other session, not a let's-batter-Simon exercise!"_

"_You're right, sorry. You had a girlfriend who had a thing for…?"_

"_Thongs," Simon finished and Gale's perfectly arched eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Yeah. She was a kinky minx and had a bit of a thing for guys wearing ladies underwear. So I go to the gym with this crappy thing on and I happen to have an accident that puts me in a compromising position. So—"_

"_Details!" Gale ordered._

"_My shorts got caught in the treadmill and it pulled them right off," Simon said bluntly. "So I fell over, bleeding and showing off my thonged ass to the whole of the gym." He grinned when Gale burst into laughter. The sound warmed his heart; it was the kind of laugh he'd have expected a princess to have, tinkling and soft. "Yeah, laugh all you want, babe," Simon said, leaning back in his chair and admiring the sight of her beautiful face shining with laughter. "Now it's your turn. Same question."_

_Gale's giggling receded a little and she cleared her throat, obviously still highly amused by his confession. Her slender hands rested on the table before her and his eyes were drawn to them; the skin looked silken, so silken that he wanted to touch it, to raise her fingers and brush his lips against them…_

"_My most embarrassing moment…" Gale said, bringing his attention back to her. Simon was still as she bit her lip, apparently stuck in her thoughts.. "This could be a difficult choice."_

"_Been in a few, huh?"_

"_I think so," Gale said with a sheepish nod. "Then again it's a matter of perception. You may not find a lot of my experiences embarrassing at all."_

"_True," he acceded. "Spill the beans, princess."_

_Gale tucked her hair behind an ear, glancing down at the table, and Simon's smirk grew at the blush creeping over her cheeks. "I was waiting to get into a lecture theatre and finally the doors opened and I walked in." She paused and rubbed a finger over her lips. "It wasn't until I sat down that I found I was sitting in a seminar room with a bunch of people and a lecturer I'd never before seen. So when the lecturer started talking about social psychology I kind of realised I was in the wrong place."_

_Simon was grinning by now. "How the hell did you manage to do that?"_

"_I've no idea!" Gale said, shaking her head and laughing sheepishly. "I was frozen for a moment and then I realised I had to get out of there so I just stood up and walked out and everyone was staring at me like '__**what**__ the hell is she doing?' After that, people on campus kept asking me if I was sure I was going into the right room."_

"_And that was your most embarrassing moment?" Simon asked a little sceptically. _

"_Yeah… It was!" Gale protested when he snorted. "I'd been there for two years and I still managed to mix up the rooms!"_

"_Tell me another one."_

"_No," she said with a shake of her head. "My turn. Let's see…"_

_Simon waited patiently, watching her as she racked her brain for a question, wondering what she'd been like at college. Had she been as intelligent then? Had she been as beautiful…_

"_Play any instruments?" Gale enquired and Simon's smirk was back with full force. Her innocent gaze turned scandalised when he deliberately slid his eyes down to his lap then back up at her with a suggestive lift of the eyebrow. "Simon!" she gasped. "I meant musical instruments! I can't believe you—"_

_Simon threw his head back and roared with laughter at her horrified expression while Gale hurled a napkin at him, laughing herself and chastising him for his dirty mind. "No, babe," Simon said, still amused. "I don't play any instruments. My turn: what's your most treasured possession?"_

_Gale's lack of hesitation interested him: she replied instantly. "My compassion."_

"_That's not a possession," he pointed out. _

"_It is," Gale argued. "To possess means to have and as I __**have**__ an ability to feel compassion," she grinned triumphantly, "I possess."_

_Simon leaned back in his chair and surveyed her for a moment. "Do you challenge David like this?"_

_Gale looked surprised. "What do you mean?"_

"_I just know that David's past girlfriends have usually been bimbos who hung on every word he said or hung on his—" he stopped, remembering she was a lady and would not appreciate his language. "Well, you know. I don't think he's met any girls with half your brain. I'm curious about how he deals with it."_

"_We have a good debate," Gale said with a smile. "It's true we clash sometimes but if we agreed on everything, where would the fun be?"_

_Simon silently agreed. He wanted to tell her that he liked this quality in her and that it gave him a lot to think about when he was away from her, lying in his bed or eating alone… He wanted to tell her that since he'd started to talk to her, no other girl could hold his attention. Their attempts at a conversation felt so hollow and dry that Simon could do little more than scorn them silently – and sometimes not so silently. _

"_You've asked me more than one question. I demand two!"_

"_If you want to get technical, you asked me a question less than a minute ago. So you only get one."_

"_That was rhetorical!" Gale cried in outrage. "That doesn't—"_

"_It does," Simon cut across her with a grin. "It's still got a question mark at the end, doesn't it? You get one."_

"_Fine!" She pouted. "Ideal girlfriend?"_

_You. "Why?" he said instead. "Does Gale have someone in mind for me?"_

"_Answer the question!" she ordered._

_Simon bowed his head. "My ideal woman is tall, dark and beautiful – from the inside. She's loyal, funny, intelligent and…" he paused for a split moment, glancing in between her twinkling eyes, "…compassionate."_

_Ah. She caught the subtle hint: Gale's eyes flickered and her back arched ever so slightly. Then – and Simon almost saw her dismissing the idea that must have cropped in her mind – she beamed at him. "I'm glad to hear it!" she said. "It's nice to meet a guy who looks past the face."_

"_My turn again: what was the first thing you thought about this morning?"_

_She didn't answer straight away and Simon scrutinised her, wishing for once in his life that he could read her mind. Of course he had no delusions: just because he'd woken up thinking of her and her enchanting face didn't mean she had as well. She was in a relationship with David – Simon doubted she even thought about him when he wasn't around. It didn't matter though. He just wanted to know everything about her, wanted to know what odd thoughts crossed her mind upon awakening and what her favourite colour was (white, he'd discovered) and if she liked to dance._

"_I thought about a meeting," Gale answered. "I have to meet a colleague at four and I don't want to miss it."_

"_Who are you meeting?"_

"_Ah, ah!" Gale wagged a finger. "It's __**my **__turn. Same question for you, mister," she said with a smile. "What was the first thing you thought about this morning?"_

"_You."_

_Despite the silence that fell and the way that Gale withdrew in shock, Simon didn't regret it. He would never hold back the truth – he hadn't been taught to lie. __**No matter the consequences**__, his brother had told him, __**always tell the truth. Be strong, be upfront and be honest so that nobody can ever doubt you. **_

_He didn't quite understand why he'd woken up thinking of her. Perhaps it had been because he'd seen her every day for over a week and she made him laugh and think and defied his beliefs and thoughts. Gale met fire with fire, asking him questions no other woman might have dared and challenged his convictions without thought. What had started out as mere curiosity to learn more about the woman who had softened David's impenetrable fortress of ice had turned into something else. _

"_Um," Gale sounded, looking away. He saw the discomfort in her expression and suddenly he wanted to put her at ease. Knowing she was uncomfortable and possibly upset bothered him – and this realisation bothered him too._

"_Gale," Simon said with a smirk. "You might want to know what I thought about before you start acting like a blushing bride."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?" she said, fire sparking up in her eyes and Simon's grin widened._

"_I woke up thinking about yesterday. Remember?" he said when she continued to frown. "You fell on your ass just 'cause you weren't looking where you—"_

_He didn't finished: the way she gaped at him told him she knew what he was talking about now. Gale was momentarily at a loss for words and then she stood up, leaned across the table and swatted at him. _

"_Simon!" she cried through peels of laughter and he joined in though his insides were twinging with something unpleasant at the idea that she was so obviously relieved. He kept up the façade though, knowing there was no other way – she and David were so deeply in love there was no chance for him, no room for him to even think that she would look at him twice. _

_No, Simon knew it was a lost cause. He should have stayed away after that first meeting, her touch should have been warning enough, but he couldn't. Something kept drawing him back with the promise that it would be the last time… Of course, it never was. So, he had decided to be her friend – there was nothing wrong with that. He knew David. Sooner or later, he would upset Gale and Simon would be there to help her understand what David was doing, that David __**did **__love her despite his behaviour and how she could deal with it all. _

_His thoughts took a darker turn when he remembered David's past and the shadows that still tracked him, kissing at his feet with the promise of danger. He wanted to keep an eye on Gale and David might need him if Rafael found him. She was a good woman – she didn't deserve the horror Rafael would put her through. _

"_Simon?"_

"_Yeah," he said automatically, looking up at her. Dark eyes were darting all over his face, examining his expression and he cursed himself for letting his thoughts take over him in her company. Wiping his face free of his emotion, he smiled. "Whose turn is it now?"_

_Gale didn't answer; she continued to look at him and if he hadn't learnt to control himself, Simon knew he would have become uncomfortable. As it was, her gaze was stirring something in him but he kept a straight face and stared back unflinchingly. Apparently seeing he wasn't going to break under her study, Gale smiled and pointed at him. "It's your turn."_

_Simon plucked a random question from his mind. "What would you do for those you love?"_

"_I would die for them," she answered, again without any hesitation. Simon wasn't surprised by the swiftness of her response. "My turn. What would you give up: friendship or love?"_

"_Friendship," Simon said, without thinking. This time, he __**was**__ surprised. He had always thought of himself as the type of man who would put his friendship before any woman… then again, that was when women had been little more than just a way to pass time. _

"_Your turn."_

"_What if you lost someone close to you?" Simon said, watching her face for any sort of emotion. "What if someone hurt the one you loved?"_

_He saw the lightning that flashed in her eyes just before she looked down at her hands. Though very little changed in her face, her features darkened and when she spoke, her voice was low and ominously quiet: "I don't know."_

_For some reason, he believed her. There was no lie in her voice or face despite that she was avoiding his eyes. Simon marvelled at the change the question had wrought in her; the bright aura turned shadowy and she was unusually still – almost stiff. He hadn't seen this side of her before yet it didn't surprise him. From the moment he'd met her, something in her face had told him there were depths to her that even David probably hadn't seen._

"_Same question," Gale said, looking up at him. "What would you do if someone hurt the one you loved?"_

_Simon pierced her with a sharp look, his own countenance turning black. "I know exactly what I would do, Gale," he said, almost menacingly. "I would turn the world upside down to make him pay."_

"_Revenge?" Gale said quietly. _

"_Isn't that what you would want?" Simon challenged. "Can you tell me you wouldn't want revenge on the bastard who'd hurt your loved one?"_

_Gale was silent and she looked away again. He waited for a response this time and finally it came in the form of a slow nod. Blazing eyes rose to meet Simon's and something inside of him unfolded with resignation, letting his emotions roll into the engulfing flames of acceptance. _

"_Vengeance," she agreed softly. "I would seek vengeance."_

* * *

_Gale opened the door, exclaiming with delighted surprise in the face of Simon's laughter. With a comfortable gesture, she pulled him in while he smiled widely. _

"_I've been dropping by to see you every day for the past five months, babe," Simon said, shaking his head. "You should be __**expecting**__ me by now."_

_Gale grinned and gestured for him to follow her in the kitchen where she was in the midst of cooking. She gestured at the table in the middle, inviting him to sit, but he simply leaned against the edge of the table. "What I'm __**expecting**__," she said, resuming her grating of carrots, "is for you to get sick of me and stop showing up!" _

_Simon laughed. "You only wish, girl."_

"_Now why would I wish that?" Gale asked, turning around and for the second time that week, her stomach did a somersault at the sight of him: his tanned skin only accentuated his already dark eyes and his rugged, smouldering presence at once made her uncomfortable and put her at ease. The latter because she knew she could trust him to always be honest and the former because his eyes always burned as though he was on the verge of telling her something..._

"_David says you forced him to watch a movie last night," Simon said with a smirk. "Is it true?" _

_Gale laughed, turning back to her task. "Unbelievable!" She shook her head. "He can watch the news for three hours and men in shorts throw a ball around but something with an actual plot has him running off to the nearest guy and complaining!"_

"_I hope you didn't hate on football around him," Simon said._

_She rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't. I know how weird he can be about it."_

"_If you want movie night, you should call me," he offered casually. _

_Gale threw him an amused look as she walked to the fridge. He was watching her intently — like he always did — with his smiling mouth lessening the intensity of his expression. For a split second, their eyes locked and her breathing hitched. Why was he looking at her that way? Why did it suddenly feel like he was going to tell her something she didn't want to hear? She struggled to look away, turning her attention to the fridge as she threw it open. _

"_Aren't you going to ask me what sort of movies I watch before offering?" _

"_I trust you," Simon said and Gale glanced at him. He'd crossed his arms and was staring almost determinedly at the sink. Gale stared at him for a moment longer, wondering what was going through his mind but then she let it drop: she didn't want to push him. If Simon didn't want to tell her something, he had a very good reason for it._

"_Well, you're right to," she said, pulling out several vegetables and kicking the fridge shut. "I have good taste in movies."_

_Simon's eyes snapped back to hers with a smirk. "Really. Seen the Godfather, have you?"_

"_Simon," Gale said with a roll of her eyes. "Did you not hear me? I have __**good **__taste in movies."_

_Simon gaped at her and she giggled at the uncharacteristic expression. "Are you shitting me?" he said incredulously, temporarily forgetting to control his language. "You don't think the Godfather is a good movie?"_

"_All that violence. What's there to love?"_

_Simon paused, closed his eyes and tilted his head back, leaving Gale frowning at him in bewilderment. Then, before she could question him, his eyes opened and he was staring at her mysteriously. "I want no inquiries," he said quietly in a gravelly voice that wasn't his own. "I want no acts of vengeance. This war stops now."_

_The apprehension in her eyes lasted mere seconds before disappearing with another roll of her eyes and she snorted in a very unladylike fashion that subconsciously made her cringe; recognising the lines from the movie, Gale turned her back on him, going to work on slicing the vegetables._

"_Simon," she sighed. _

"_Yeah, baby?" he replied in a voice dripping with laughter._

"_What __**is **__it with you and revenge?"_

_He shrugged. "I don't forgive easily." Another smile. "That aside though, it's a damn powerful scene."_

"_You are incorrigible."_

_She heard him approach her as he spoke. "That I am, my lady," Simon said humorously. "That I am."_

_Gale set the knife aside and threw the now sliced tomatoes in the frying pan while she went to work on the chillies, sparing Simon a glance over her shoulder. "Hey, why don't you join us for dinner tonight?"_

_She knew his answer even before he gave it; she'd been receiving the same one ever since she'd begun asking and unable to understand why he kept rejecting her offers, Gale persisted. She knew he probably had a very good reason to decline but something inside of her wasn't letting the issue go. He was David's best friend and, by now, a very good friend of hers. What reason would he have to continuously rebuff her invitations?_

"_Thanks but I think I'll pass." _

"_Simon," she said again, this time with a more tired sigh. She paused in her task and turned to him – he was looking away again. "Why do you keep saying no?" _

_He only answer was to turn away and walk to the nearest picture where he stood with his back to her under the pretence of examining it but Gale had known Simon long enough now – he couldn't hide his emotions all the time. _

"_Is it a woman?" Gale asked, the idea occurring to her randomly though she doubted very much that was it. Simon was known for loving no woman while charming all of them. There was no way that his prob—_

"_Yes." _

_Shock rippled through her and she blinked uncomprehendingly. Had she heard right? Had Simon really said what she thought he had?_

"_It is because of a woman."_

_Gale's body almost jerked and there was a split moment of hesitation in which she feared she might lose the friend she'd made but then it was gone with a mental flick. What the hell was she thinking? Why would Simon finding a partner mean she would lose his friendship? Beaming as she bounced across the kitchen._

"_Why didn't you tell me?" she cried, turning him around to face her. "I've been—"_

_Her voice died in her throat the moment their eyes met: there was a fire rising in the black abyss of his stare. Paralysed by the all-consuming expression that was enveloping his features into its searing embrace, Gale could do nothing but swallow against the sudden fear that had lodged itself at the back of her throat. _

"_You want to know?" he said quietly as he surveyed her. "Do you want to know who it is?"_

_**No**__, her intuition told her. __**No! You don't want to know! Tell him it's none if your business! Tell him to keep it to himself…**_

_Her body rebelled: the wordless mouth pressed together and Gale silently nodded. A smile drew itself - against itself- across her wavering mouth, faltering when Simon stepped closer. _

"_You already know," he murmured, his eyes darting between hers and she felt the ground sway beneath her. Gale shook her head, trying to deny what her mind was thinking, what his silence was screaming... No, it couldn't be... It wasn't possible..._

_Another smile, more confident this time, rose to her lips. She took a step back to put some distance between them both. "Your games don't work with me," she said weakly. "Behave yourself." _

"_No more games, Gale," he said, stepping closer. "I want to tell you the truth." _

"_What?" she said teasingly though her voice shook. She turned her back on him and stepped toward the counter. "You going to tell me you love me?" She laughed, picking up the knife with shaking hands and attempting to go back to what she was doing; the smell of burnt tomatoes hit her senses but she barely noticed. "Of course you don't. I'd never ex—"_

_Suddenly, his fingers were on her arm and she was spinning to the command of his hands. Gale couldn't tear her eyes away from his glittering ones as he pried the knife from her grasp and threw it aside, pulling her closer. A gasp escaped her when he drew her into his arms and lowered his head, an ardency in his darkly handsome features. _

"_I do," he whispered and she flinched, at once frozen and burnt by his words. Her arms writhed against his hands for a moment but he only pulled her closer, ending her struggle with one look. "Gale..."_

_She wanted to tell him to stop, to cease the madness that had grabbed hold of him but Simon appeared calm — and this realisation scared her more than anything else. _

"_Listen to me," he commanded, reaching up to touch her face and she went still again, now barely breathing. The feel of his fingers tracing the rise of her cheek left her feeling burnt and she wanted nothing more than to push him away, to put as much space between them both as she could. "Gale…" he murmured quietly, tilting her head so she was looking right into his endless eyes. "__**I do."**_

_Somehow, his refusal to say the words was worse than actually hearing them because it only rung all the louder that what he was doing was wrong. Gale twisted out of grasp with one fluid motion and then she had drawn a distance the length of the kitchen between them. She turned away from him and closed her eyes to calm her beating heart and thought of David – he was her friend, her partner, her lover… She loved him more than she could say. Her loyalty bound her to David inextricably and she would not sacrifice it for anything. Anything._

_But Simon… Simon was David's good friend, __**her **__friend. She had developed a friendship with him the likes of which she'd never thought she could have had. He was honest and open and she was never afraid of being herself around him. He never judged her and never minced his words with her… How could she just tell him to leave? How could she just turn him away?_

_Why had he done this? Why had he set her insides on fire? For a moment, Gale wanted nothing more than to slap him, to hit him and demand his reasons for telling her this. Had she given him the wrong message? Had she made him think there was something more to her friendship? _

"_Gale—"_

"_Simon," she said shortly, not wanting to hear anything he had to say. "I think you've said enough."_

"_No," he said and she ran shaking hands through her hair, holding her head to stem the throbbing ache. "I want you to understand that I'm telling you this knowing you don't feel the same way. I have no expectations of you. I don't even expect to be your friend anymore."_

"_Then what the hell would make you say something like that?" Gale cried, rounding on him. "Why would you risk losing not just one but two friends?"_

"_Because I'm not the type of man to pretend, Gale," Simon said quietly. "I'm not going to keep it all inside and pretend I'm fine. It would damage our friendship. This way you can choose – if you tell me to go away, you'll never hear from me again."_

_Gale's heart leapt with fear at the possibility and she barely found the strength to speak, too far gone in the craziness of the moment to wonder at her intense reaction. "And if you stay?" she whispered._

"_You accept me as I am, with all of my feelings for you," he said, taking a step forward and gesturing to himself. "And I can promise you I will be your friend, just as I have been the past five months. When you need a shoulder to cry on, I'll be here. When you need someone to talk to, I'll listen. You'll never have to fear anything from me, Gale," he said gently as he took another step forward. "I would never sabotage your relationship with David."_

"_Wouldn't you?" _

"_Never," he vowed. "I care about you too much – and he's my friend. I only want you to know that there's a guy in this world who'll turn it upside-down just to be there for you. There's a guy, standing __**right here**__—" he pointed to the ground at his feet "—who will die for you without a second thought."_

_Overwhelmed and unable to understand why she was feeling as though her body was falling apart, Gale turned her back on him again. "Simon, just—go," she choked. _

"_Gale—" His voice had turned pleading now and her heart turned over painfully at the sound._

"_No, Simon!" she cried. "Please, just GO!"_

_Silence met her demand. And then, footsteps. She heard him stop at the doorway and sigh raggedly in frustration. "Chi la dura la vince, mi amore," he murmured. _

_Gale's breath caught in her throat and she spun around but Simon was gone, leaving her shaking and rendered senseless with shock. Despite the promise that he would never interfere with her relationship, Gale felt a stab of fear – his parting words had contradicted his claim. That Simon had been unaware of Gale's fluency in Italian left her with a mistrust of her friend she had never imagined she would feel. She turned the words over and over in her mind and with each reiteration, Gale sank deeper into the chasm of sorrow. She knew she had to make a choice – the problem was, she was too far gone to make the right one._

* * *

The shadows of the night roved all around his cell as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped and his head hanging in between hunched shoulders. Simon was deep in thought, the contents of which were just as black as the darkness that shrouded him. There was chaos bubbling just under his skin, so violent and volatile that he was surprised his skin wasn't rippling with the effect. It was borne of the impatience and desire to see what he had dreamt of for so many years – the death of the man who'd killed Gale. Rafael was living through his last night. After all the years he and David and so many others had spent staying out of his way, the bastard was finally going to fall…

And all because of the Gavin boy.

Simon had never imagined such a thing could happen. When the blond rock star had stepped into his cell, his thoughts had been almost snide beneath the exhaustion of trying to just _be_. Gavin's questions and his interest had both bugged and annoyed him, generating from Simon the first emotion since he'd landed in this hell-hole. After all, what did the pampered brat really know about crime? He stood at his safe pulpit, accusing the criminals the system threw his way or stood on a stadium and revelled in the sound of his fans screaming. He'd never had to deal with crime the way Simon had. He'd been too pampered, too privileged. Klavier Gavin couldn't understand.

Yet no matter how cold he was to the boy, he kept coming back, kept pushing until Simon began to reveal things about his past that he hadn't spoken of for years. He was pushing the limits of investigating until he was downright prying into their business and nothing stopped him. When he spoke of Gale, there was no mistake the distress Simon saw beneath that confident, rock-star get-up. The boy was more attached to Gale than had at first been apparent and cooperation or not, Klavier wouldn't back down. As time went on Simon began to realise the boy's depth was greater than he had imagined and his wry smile had surfaced: he should have known – from the day he found out Gale had saved Klavier – that there was something more to the boy than met the eye.

He'd finally understood Klavier upon learning of his love for Ema Skye. Simon had recognised her the moment she'd stepped into his cell. Something about her aura, and the way she carried herself, had screamed of her suitability for Klavier. He'd dismissed it at first, believing he'd lost his marbles – until she'd said Klavier's name while arguing with Deston. Angry or not, her voice had resonated with something he'd heard before…. Heard in _her _voice when she would say his name…

Simon lifted his head and stared up at the dark ceiling without really seeing it, his thoughts still whirring.

_Gale_. The reminder of her left him feeling as though the breath had been knocked out of him. Every day he thought of her and all of his unshed tears turned inwards until it rained to the depths of his soul, each tear slicing into him till he was bleeding endlessly. Her absence had ripped him of his reason for being, left him hollowed out and empty. Every time he thought of just ending his life, he reminded himself he didn't deserve such an easy release. Death was too good for him.

But now that he knew there was a life beyond death, Simon longed for it with a burning passion. He could finally be rid of this world, could finally leave behind this life, could finally be with her…

"But with what face will I come before you, Gale?" he whispered, his eyes dropping to the ground.

How could he be with her, knowing he'd left behind such danger in the world? Knowing what she'd sacrificed, how could he go anywhere without finishing what she'd started? How else could he leave behind these feelings of guilt, shame and regret…

It wasn't just about her now though. As determined as he was to finish her task before he himself died, Simon had developed a deep, abiding respect for the Gavin boy – not just because he'd gone out of his way to gain justice for Gale but because of his ability to love a woman with such intense devotion. Simon had seen the way his face changed when he talked about Ema; after all, it used to be the same with him…

Simon rose to his feet and stepped to the window, absent-mindedly looking out as his thoughts took another, more sinister turn. They were young – all of them. They didn't know the things he knew and how could he tell them? How could he look into Klavier's face and tell him that the moment Rafael died, the real fight would begin for all of them?

How could he explain to them the depths of depravity into which Rafael's ilk had descended? There was no way they would understand. None of them would emerge from this war unscathed. Even knowing Gale's sacrifice was not enough: they didn't wonder why she had taken such strong measures, did they? Why she had felt her death had been the only way to get what she wanted?

He punched the wall and took a deep, ragged breath. No, they didn't know – none of them. Which is why he would stay and keep an eye on them. Simon knew he could tell them everything he knew but he was no fool – he'd seen what such knowledge could do to a man. It was why he hadn't pushed Klavier for the truth despite knowing they – Gale and he – were hiding something from him. There was such a thing as knowing too much, too fast.

There was no question of telling them.

Simon thought of David. The man's face swam before his eyes and though his dislike arose, the hatred he'd nurtured for so long was gone. He was suddenly deprived of a reason to detest him with the strength that he had. He merely disliked him – for all the times that he'd mistreated Gale, for all the times that he'd put her in the middle of a difficult situation and for all the tears she'd cried over him. He could no longer loathe him, knowing that Gale was the one who'd ordered him away. Now, David was simply an old friend whose friendship with him had broken.

"_But…"_

The word fell from his lips with a finality that rung around him. _But indeed_, he thought. No matter how much enmity they harboured for each other, Simon knew he couldn't do what was needed without David. His pride, unlike Rainsford's, was not greater than what was going on around him. He knew that he had put his personal issues aside and help them all. They didn't understand what they were entangled in.

Rafael Rainsford had tried to kill Ema Skye. He knew that – they all did. The only difference was they thought they knew why and he _did _know why. Simon had no plans to remedy that, however. It hadn't taken long to understand what Rafael's reasons were, nor for whom his last desperate act had been.

Simon's lips lifted into a derisive smirk as he moved to the far wall, his attention fixed on the small button planted into the concrete. He pressed it and there was a small sound that signalled the warden had received his summons. He was satisfied with his plan and full of a renewed sense of purpose; Gale had breathed life into him again and Simon was going to spend his remaining time saving as many people as he could.

Klavier and Ema would never go through what he had had to suffer, what he knew Deston Cavatin and his fiancée had suffered. Rafael had excelled in destroying lovers who could not survive without one another but it wouldn't happen a third time. He would make sure of that. It was not just that this was his last chance of redemption. It was an intense need for Klavier and Ema to have the life he had envisioned for himself and Gale. He... _cared _for them.

"What's the matter, Lowes?" the warden said, throwing the door open and stepping into the room housing his cell.

Simon briefly glanced over the man's tired appearance, wondering if he'd woken the man and not really caring if that was the case. He simply approached the bars and stared through them, piercing the man with his eyes.

"I want to see David Rainsford. Tell him it's urgent."


	31. Love Symmetry

Love Symmetry

'.'

The shackles of uncertainty I break,

The prison of doubt I destroy;

The shield of confidence I take,

The sword of conviction I employ.

Victorious, I sit upon this throne,

With you, my love, by my side,

And all of my worries have flown,

Since you finally became my pride.

.'.

Klavier awoke with a start. He sat up drenched in sweat and heart pounding with fear. His blinking eyes met the shadowy canvas of the night as it played host to flickering, incomprehensible images. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and took a deep breath as he tried to remember exactly what it was that had frightened him. Though unable to recall his dream, the memory of his mother was growing stronger with every passing second and an oppression of sadness was threatening to take over him.

Pulling his uncomfortably damp shirt off and throwing it aside, he ran a hand over his bare arms, rubbing away the clamminess that had gathered there and took a deep breath. He blinked away the hazy clouds of sleep and turned to look at Ema who was asleep on the bed beside him. He felt himself grow lighter the longer he stared at her; she looked so vulnerable and angelic that Klavier felt his stomach tighten with love. Her brown hair was layered across the pillow behind her and her hand rested on her neck as if she were subconsciously protecting it from something.

As if aware of his scrutiny, Ema stirred; her legs rose and fell as she turned onto her back and the silken sheets moved down her waist and over her hip. Gently, he pulled it back up until it covered her and lay back down, careful not to disturb her. With tender fingers, Klavier moved the tendrils of brown away from her forehead, smoothing her hair back. He leaned in and dropped a soft kiss on her cheek, right where a slight tinge of her bruise lingered.

Behind her sleeping form, the clock glared the time in the dark: 3:48 AM. He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep. After bringing Ema home from the hospital, he'd stayed with her in her bedroom, keeping her company on her request. He didn't know why she had done so – he was sure she was anything but afraid – but he wasn't complaining. The time had been spent strictly on conversation but with each passing minute he'd felt closer to her than if he'd spend hours kissing her, making love to her…

Klavier had had many relationships in his career as a prosecutor/rock-star and he'd met many a woman. Some had been after him for his body, some for his money and some for both. On the odd occasion, a woman came along who was clearly not materialistic, who did not primarily lust after him but he still found it near impossible to connect with them. Something had always been missing from the relationship and, not being the type of guy to string a woman along, he'd let them go.

But now, as he watched Ema sleep, he knew that he'd finally found what was missing. She was everything he'd been looking for and everything he'd never thought he'd find. She was beautiful and loyal and honest. Despite her constant rebuffs and insults, Klavier felt more cared for by Ema than the army of women who followed him around, screaming their love for him.

A sudden shiver from her sleeping form grabbed his attention and he looked at the curtains floating on the cool air coming in through the open windows. Throwing his sheets aside, Klavier approached the window and closed it as quietly as he could before heading back to the bed. He sat on the edge this time, turning to the nightstand where he checked his phone for any messages but found none. He touched the lamp and a dim light bathed his area of the room. Picking up _Voices On The Air, _he turned it over to read the back for the millionth time since buying it. Having hardly any time, Klavier had progressed very little but he was determined to finish it.

"Klavier?"

Ema sat up beside him and he turned to look at her, setting the book aside. Her warm fingers touched his shoulder gingerly and he smiled, covering her hand with his own. "I am sorry, Ema," he murmured. "I did not mean to wake you."

"You didn't," she reassured him in a drowsy voice. He watched affectionately while she rubbed her eyes. "Are you okay?"

With a smile, he leaned back into the pillows and pulled her into his embrace. "_Nein_, I am not okay," he said sternly and Ema groaned.

"Get over it, would you?" she said moodily. "Deston's pissed off enough for the both of you."

"Ema, you were meant to rest," Klavier chastised for the tenth time since the incident with Sloan. "Instead, you emotionally blackmailed Raoul — ja, he was well aware of what you were doing," he added when Ema gasped, "so do not play innocent — and, against Deston's orders, you joined the fight when you could have—"

"Alright, already!" she cried. "How many times does a girl have to say sorry?"

"I do not want an apology," Klavier said, rubbing her arm. "I want your safety."

"I'm a detective!" she said, as if exasperated that she had to keep reminding them.

"And you can fulfil that job role. When you are well."

"Grouch," Ema said and Klavier couldn't himself — he smiled. Suddenly, she tried to pull away but his arms only tightened and when she tuned her glare on him, his smile widened. His eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could see her emerald ones shining in the moonlight that trickled in through the windows. "Let go, Gavin."

Instead, he ran a hand down her arm till it was at her waist and he leaned, his lips inches from hers. "I almost lost you today," he whispered. "I will never let go of you."

"Why does everything have to be so sensual with you?" she said in an unsteady voice, weakly pushing away his hands.

"Am I sensual, Ema?"

"You're annoying is what you are, fop," Ema grumbled, trying to pull away again.

"_My soul dances around your heart,"_ Klavier sang quietly, not quite sure where the unfamiliar lyrics were coming from. _"It sings its need, asking you to be mine."_

Klavier felt Ema go stiff in his arms and he wondered if he'd pushed her too far, too fast. Had he finally scared her with his confessions and his desires? Apprehensively, Klavier straightened his back and turned his head to look at her but when he did, instead of the revulsion and fear he'd been dreading, he found another expression instead. It wasn't quite joy or happiness but it didn't make him feel bad, didn't make him regret speaking the truth of his feelings.

"I don't recognise that song," she said.

Laughingly, Klavier shrugged. "Neither do I."

"You mean you just… you just made it up?"

Klavier didn't answer straight away: her expression was almost inscrutable and because he couldn't read her, there was a hesitancy to respond. It was stupid to be so insecure of course. It wasn't as though she was asking him a damning question… was she?

"Klavier," Ema said and the tone of her voice made something inside him jump. "You okay?"

"I wish I could read your mind," he admitted sheepishly.

To his surprise, Ema chuckled dryly. "Thank God you can't," she said, shaking her head. "You're bad enough as you are. I can't bear to think of how bad you'd be if you could read my thoughts."

That piqued his interest; what did she want to hide from him? A mischievous possibility hit him and he grinned, taking her hand and interlocking their fingers. "Why, Ema?" he asked, pulling her closer still. "What secrets do you so jealously guard? What thoughts cross your mind?"

Ema looked set to answer but then her eyes widened when she took in the double entendre of his words. "Klavier!" she let out a cry of disbelief and began to pound his shoulders and chest while he laughed, delighted by her response. He fell against the pillows, unresisting of her attack while she rose to her knees next to him.

"You need to get your mind out of the gutter!" she said, pointing at him accusingly.

"And you, Ema," Klavier said, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, "need to get yourself into my arms."

Before she could protest, he'd pulled and Ema fell atop him with a gasp. Without pause, he enfolded her waist in his embrace and drew her against him in a gentle hug, relishing the feel of her body against his. Her proximity was a reminder that the events of the fight were ticking their way into history with every passing minute and that, right now, Ema was safe and sound.

His mind rewound to several hours earlier: Daryan's warnings had nearly stopped his heart but somehow he'd managed to find the strength and resilience to fight against the terror that had threatened to cripple him. He'd been paralysed with shock and horror when he couldn't find Ema at home or get in touch with any of the other Gavinners. Eventually managing to talk to Seren – who had come to the precinct with a group of forensics – Klavier had learned where Ema was and who with.

Klavier would never forget the moment. As soon as Seren told him their location, Klavier had frozen over with thousands of questions that had left him incapable of thinking coherently.

It had only lasted a split second though — then he'd been flying through the precinct, his feet barely touching the ground as he shouted orders to gather everyone he could. It had been a race between his footsteps and his heartbeat to see which would give out first. Never before had he felt such intense fear course through his bloodstream mingled with crimson anger at himself, at Rafael and at his friends.

He'd had no time to think about it though – it only swam through him like a burning fuel. Klavier remembered little between leaving the precinct and arriving at his destination but, after that, everything was clear. He'd always remember the sight of Ema, spinning on the ground and producing a firearm, seemingly out of nowhere, and shooting at the man above her. He'd almost jumped out of a speeding car at the sight and it had only been Seren who had physically pulled him back.

Everything had slowed down: Ema had turned the gun on Raoul's attacker and brought him to his knees. Klavier had been deluged with an incomprehensible mix of emotions as he'd thrown the door open and bolted across the ground towards Ema. Even as Deston ran towards her, Klavier had sprinted across an endless stretch of land and despite knowing it made more sense to stay in the car – he would have got there quicker – his need to run for her had been stronger and it had won out over his logic, his sense, his reasoning… Waiting for those wheels of rubber to take him to his location had felt too slow, too useless…

As Deston had given her to Klavier and he'd looked up at his friend, the prosecutor's initial anger had disappeared. There had been something in the sight of Deston's terrified expression, the speed with which he'd headed for Ema that had told him that Deston's love for Ema – however platonic – was almost as deep as his own. His intense anger and refusal to talk to Ema had only confirmed his belief. And Raoul…

Klavier smiled inwardly as he thought of the arrogant red-head. His usually smug look was nowhere to be seen after he'd spotted Ema in Klavier's arms and he'd followed after them, bombarding them with demands to know what had happened to her before turning on Deston and beginning to bicker with him for being 'too soft' in the face of her demands. Deston, in no mood to listen to Raoul's reprimands, had simply thumped him.

The smile finally reflected in his face as Klavier thought of his friends. Once Ema had been declared exhausted and nothing more, he'd turned on the other two Gavinners with a thunderous countenance and demanded to know what had happened but Deston and Raoul's equally furious and miserable expressions had been all the apology he needed. Yes, they shouldn't have given in to her demands so easily but he acceded it was because they – both of them – cared about her. Their willingness to put their lives on the line for her had shown him that.

And the knowledge that, if something ever happened to him, his friends would take care of her and protect her, was a comfort to him.

"Klavier?"

Ema's soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he blinked at her, trying to separate his thoughts from the present and focus on her. "What is it, Ema?"

"I was wondering…" she paused, hesitating and he waited patiently but when she didn't speak again, Klavier entwined his fingers around hers once more.

"Do not hesitate. Do not fear. Ask whatever you wish."

"Are you sure?"

"Ja," he said firmly. "I have no secrets from you."

There was a split moment of silence and Ema nodded, resting her head against his shoulder. "Will you tell me about Gale Sanders?"

Klavier glanced at Ema in surprise. "Gale? But you know about her already, do you not?"

"I do," Ema confirmed. "The facts of her case. I want to know her like you do." She looked up at him. "I know you care about her. I want to understand her the way you do."

Klavier should have been taken aback by Ema's interest but he wasn't. There was nothing odd about her request; this was the kind of thing he'd come to expect and love. Raising her hand to his lips for a kiss, Klavier smiled at her. "What would you like to know, Ema?"

"What was she like?"

Klavier hesitated for the briefest moment before realising he knew enough about Gale to answer the question. "She was loyal and loved immensely… deeply. She reminds me of my mother." He shook his head. "I can think of no better way to describe her."

"How did she save you?"

_Shit._

Klavier turned cold at the question and his smile turned ironic. He'd been so caught up in recent events that he'd almost forgotten the circumstances that has set off the chain reaction leading him here. Miraculously, nobody had found out about his attempted suicide — he had never thought to tell anyone. The thought made him cringe. What would he tell them? That his brother and best friend had betrayed him and then Ema had been taken away? Something told him the confession would not be well received. Especially by Deston. Given what he knew now about his true intentions, Klavier knew Deston would blame himself for his friend's almost-death. And Ema… What would she do? Would she despise him for his weakness?

Yet even as he opened his mouth to lie, Klavier's voice was nowhere to be found. He simply stared ahead into the dark and remembered another night on which he'd asked her to take his hand, asked her to give him a chance despite her reserve. What had he promised her in return? To share everything, to always be honest with her.

How could he lie to her now?

Ema, having felt him stiffen, looked at him quizzically. "Klavier?"

"Ah, Ema," he murmured. "I wish that instead of a mere inquiry into, perhaps, a secret, it was a wish for half my estate."

"I… don't know what bugs me more," she said slowly. "Your quoting Jane Eyre or your answer."

"I like to read when I have time," he said, hoping to change the subject. "My mother always encouraged me to broaden my knowledge and one of the best ways to do that was to read."

"Jane Eyre?" she said somewhat sceptically.

"You have read Jane Eyre?"

"Yes but that's beside the point. Why don't you want to answer my question?"

Klavier paused, disappointed that his evasion tactic had not worked. "It is not that I do not wish to answer your question, Ema."

"Then?"

"You are welcome to all my confidence," he continued, avoiding her gaze and wishing she wouldn't persist. "But for God's sake... Don't desire a useless burden! Don't long for poison."

Ema sat up then and he looked at her: emerald eyes were fixed intently on him and a frown had appeared to mar her smooth features. Klavier saw the concern in her face, the anxiousness pursing her lips and he grimaced; he could not lie to her yet he knew the truth would only make her feel worse.

"Klavier," she started in a cautious voice, "how did Gale save your life?"

Sighing in resignation and sitting up, he took her hand in his again and looked at it as his fingers ran across her palm. He was quiet for a moment as he gathered his thoughts — and his courage — to tell her the truth.

"After Daryan's trial," he started hesitantly, "I was angry. Kristoph's actions were bad enough but that Daryan had also betrayed me… I had no idea how to deal with any of it."

Ema's fingers tightened around his hand. She was watching him silently.

"One day, at work, I snapped." He hesitated, knowing he didn't have to tell her what had caused it. After all, Daryan and Kristoph's actions were reason enough for his behaviour. "I drove aimlessly for hours until I stopped at Kartan beach. I stood in the water for a long time, just thinking."

Unexpectedly, Ema jerked and Klavier glanced at her with a frown "Are you alright?" he asked, worried. "Are you in pain?"

"No," she answered but her voice was strained.

"Ema—"

"I'm okay, honestly," she insisted. "Carry on."

He stared at her for a few lengthy seconds and nodded, satisfied that she wasn't lying. "I was angry. The rope that held me to sanity was rapidly fraying and I…" Klavier sighed, unable to finish the sentence. How could he tell her that he'd decided to kill himself? Because, in the bluntest way put, that was exactly what he'd done. He'd decided that life wasn't worth living anymore and right now, as he sat in the dark with Ema in his arms, that feeling felt so alien he could scarcely believe that such a thought had crossed his mind.

"Y-You tried to…" Ema faltered and Klavier looked at her, frowning at the fear in her voice. She took a deep breath and looked him squarely in the eyes. "This is going to sound stupid but did you try to drown yourself?"

Klavier was taken aback by her question and he leaned back to look into her face. How did she know? Had someone seen him? Had someone told her? Or had the darkness of his mind been so palpable that she had simply guessed?

"Klavier?" Ema said, now gripping his arm so tight he wondered if the blood was still running through his veins. What was she thinking? Klavier searched her features for an answer to his questions. How could she have just guessed the truth? It was impossible. He'd told nobody.

"Why aren't you answering me?"

Her eyes darted back and forth between his and her face was falling into a mix of dismay and disbelief; her nails were digging into his skin and her head was shaking infinitesimally. With a painful twist of the heart at her expression, Klavier put a finger to her lips to stop them moving wordlessly and he embraced her again, kissing her forehead.

"I am sorry," he whispered sincerely. "It was not my intent to upset you."

"I-It's true?" she gasped, raising her wide eyes to his.

Not quite able to meet her prying gaze, Klavier glanced down at their entwined hands and nodded. Ema went rigid and for a moment he squeezed his eyes shut as nervousness took hold of him; would she cringe from his presence now? Did she think him a coward and a hypocrite? Had he become a weakling in her eyes now?

His heart sank when her hands slipped from in between his and there was a moment of complete stillness before she moved. There was a sudden chill where she had rested against him but before he could apologise, before he could gather the courage to look her in the face and say anything, her slender hands were on his cheeks.

Stunned, Klavier opened his eyes but Ema's lips met his at that moment and her hands dropped to his shoulders, snaking around his neck. Wave upon wave of tiny shocks were overtaking him and he accepted her body into his arms when she moved astride him. He tilted his face upwards as the kiss deepened and relief was quickly overtaken by adoration and pleasure. Her love and devotion was seeping through as she moulded herself into him and he knew then why she was the one.

This affection and loyalty that lurked beneath the façade of anger and disinterest… This deep, abiding love for those she cared about and her ability to just _know_ how to respond to make him feel as if the world was right again… _This _was why he loved her. Her support and her love were consistent and unconditional. How could he have doubted her?

"Klavier Gavin," she breathed, pulling away and looking at him. "If you _ever_ leave me…" she took a deep breath, shaking her head, "I'll curse you into oblivion."

He should have been shocked by her warning. With the rising warmth in his chest should have come surprise; Ema had never before been so open about her feelings, let alone the depth of them. There was something in the way she said it, however, that was so comforting and so familiar, that Klavier did nothing but smile. "Will fop be one of the many profanities you will use, Fräulein?"

Ema didn't break a smile. Her fingers slipped back to his face and she swept his hair away tenderly. Her eyes roved his features as if she was looking for something and it took only a few seconds for him to realise what she was after.

"Ema," he said, turning to kiss the palm of her hand. "You have nothing to worry about. I have found my reason to live. As long as I have you…" He touched her face gently, drawing it in until there was almost no space left between their mouths, "I can survive anything."

In response, Ema took his hand and pressed it against her chest, right over her heart. Her voice burned fiercely when she spoke: "Promise me you won't do anything like that again."

"My life is no longer mine to sacrifice, Ema," he murmured. "Everything I am is for you."

Unexpectedly, Ema threw herself at him and knocked him backwards so he landed in a sea of pillows again. Without thinking, he engulfed her in a hug, rubbing her back as she buried her face in his neck. "Fop!" her voice was muffled but he could hear the fear seeping through, could feel it in the way her body was shaking against his. "Idiot!" she snapped again.

He chuckled, muttering an apology in her ear and kissed her shoulder. "That I am, Ema," he said quietly. "That I am."

She stayed that way for a long time. Time became meaningless as he held her; the weight of her body pressing down on his made him feel complete somehow. She fit around him so perfectly that he couldn't recall a life without her, couldn't remember how he'd managed to last so long without her to fulfil him. She was beautiful and pure, like the deliciously fresh air after having been trapped in a dank, stale and windowless room for countless years. He inhaled her scent deeply, letting this little part of her run through his body. He felt at peace, knowing that as long as she was nearby, he was always at one with her.

Just when he thought she had fallen asleep, Ema stirred and he turned his head to look at her when she lifted herself off him. His arms tightened, however, and she glared at him. "Klavier," she said warningly and he was somewhat relieved to see the way she was glowering at him.

"I have known the searing touch of your body," he murmured. "I will die without you to warm me."

"Corndog."

"Tell me something, Ema," he started as a question hit him but Ema thumped him lightly.

"Let go of me first," she said.

He smirked at her while tightening his grip on her waist. "And why would I do something as foolish as that?"

"Because my back hurts."

"Hmm." Klavier paused for only a split second and then rolled her over so that she was lying comfortably on her side of the bed and he was hovering over her, leaning on his elbows and looking into her eyes with a smile. "Is that better?"

Ema looked exasperated but he didn't miss the way she swallowed deeply. "You wanted to ask something?"

He nodded slowly. "How did you know what I did?"

Ema hesitated just long enough to make Klavier suspicious of her answer. "I guessed."

"Oh?" he said, tilting his head. "How did you manage that?"

"Don't turn all lawyer on me now," Ema said briskly, waving a hand around. "You didn't finish telling me – how did Gale save your life?"

The memory sprang before his eyes and he smiled slightly, shaking his head. "You are a woman of science. You would not believe me."

"Try me."

A grin accompanied the thought that flashed through his mind and his body tightened again, responding to the idea. "May I?"

Ema's frown lasted for a split second before dissolving into a scowl as she punched at his shoulder, shouting over his laughter: "What the hell is wrong with you, Gavin?"

"I am not entirely to blame," he said in a low voice, pressing his stomach against hers lightly. "Your kiss has rendered me somewhat incapable of coherency. Perhaps another kiss would reawaken the—"

"Shut up, Klavier."

"Where did you learn to kiss like that, Ema?" he asked, curious. Jealousy rose within him as an array of faceless men came to mind in response to his question.

"Stop dodging the subject, fop-face," she said.

"Very well," Klavier said with a sigh. "Gale stopped me from making the biggest and what would have been the last mistake of my life. She convinced me that what I was doing was wrong."

He could see the realisation in her frown and waited patiently when she spoke. "But… But Daryan's trial was recent and…" Ema looked at him in confusion. "Gale's been dead for 3 years."

Klavier nodded. "That is true."

"I'm lost."

"Do you remember the night of the Landon murder?" Klavier asked and she nodded slowly. "When you rang me, I had just been conversing with Gale."

Shock flitted across her features. "W-What?"

"After our call, I turned to offer her a lift but found that she was gone." Klavier sighed. "I wanted to thank her but I knew nothing about her. I did not even know her name. It was by chance that I happened across her file and the rest, as they say, is history."

"You're telling me…" Ema said slowly, "that it was her spirit that saved you?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile and he inclined his head. "Ja."

"I… I see."

Klavier scrutinised her expression, amused by the collection of emotions that were at war on her face and he chuckled. "Are you wondering what kind of lunatic your boyfriend is?"

Ema's eyes snapped to his. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "I'm wondering how the hell to thank her."

"What?"

It was her turn to smirk at the look on his face and she slapped him lightly. "It's a miracle someone was there to stop my idiotic, moronic, _foppish_ boyfriend from doing something unbelievably stupid."

The warmth in his chest escaped its confines and flooded his body as a slow, satisfied smile spread across his lips. "You believe me?"

"Well obviously," Ema said, raising an eyebrow. "I've heard too much about Kurain's finest Medium to doubt it."

He stared at her a moment longer, marvelling at her intelligence. He wished he could understand her mind; the more time he spent with her, the more he found of her personality that lingered beneath the glares, the professional grouchiness. He had known from the moment he met her all those years ago that she was special but he'd never been able to put his finger on it.

"Ema Skye…" he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, smiling when he felt her sharp intake of breath. "You amaze me every day."

"Do I?" she asked.

Her emerald jewels were enchanting him, sucking him into their infinite depths and he felt an unspeakable force pull at every fibre in his body until he wanted nothing more than to merge his being with hers, until he was no more than just a part of her ethereal essence.

Klavier pressed into her gently again so that their bodies were just touching and their lips met once more. This time, the kiss was slow and languid; he took his time to feel her, breathe her, taste her. Silken-smooth lips were yielding their delicious magic, flowing into and bringing him to life in pieces; he sighed and Ema shivered, an inaudible sound escaping her. Though wanting to know what she had murmured, the passion of their kiss won out over his curiosity. Her response was light, almost virginal, but there was a sensual need in the way her fingers were dancing down his arms and the sweetness of the gesture made him cherish her all the more. Her scent intoxicated him; the press of her body… the softness of her curves… the sound of her sighs…

"Would you like to know something, Ema?" he whispered into her mouth. Another shudder ripped through her and he smiled. "Putting aside the fear and the anger at your recklessness today…" He left the sanctuary of her lips and journeyed down her neck, feeling every inch of her skin in his path. Her chest rose and fell against his and her breathing had deepened. "…your courage… your fearlessness…" He came to rest at the hollow of her throat and dropped a kiss, smiling at the way her body reacted. "You are sensuality itself."

Slender, cool fingers ran down the bare skin of his back and he groaned when they moved around his waist and swept up his chest where she drew lazy circles that drove him crazy with desire. His muscles were taut with the effort of keeping himself from kissing her till the world ended and Klavier closed his eyes, relinquishing his body to the torture.

She laughed breathily and he looked at her with a smile. "What's the matter, Gavin?" she asked.

He almost laughed. Finding a much better way to punish her for her cheekiness, he lowered his face into her neck again, nipping at her skin gently and chuckling when she gasped. "A temptress is driving me insane with her touch," he whispered. "What about you, Ema?" He rose to look her in the eyes. "Why are you trembling?"

A shrill sort of sound filled the silence. Klavier blinked, a small frown forming between his cloudy eyes as the dull sound rang in his ears. Ema could not make that sort of sound and her lips were not moving… so what was it?

It was when she stirred, turning to look towards the source that Klavier followed her gaze to his phone where it rested on the nightstand.

He almost swore. _No way in __**hell **__can this be happening…_

"Answer the call," Ema said and he looked at her: the haziness was gone, replaced by a more composed expression. He cursed aloud and a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "Go on. It's probably important."

"It cannot be more important than this," he murmured, sighing when she shook her head. "I cannot find it in me to let go of you, Ema."

"Try."

"No," he said simply and leaned in but she pressed her hands against his chest firmly and he sighed in dejection "_Akzeptabel_. Anything for you."

He rolled over to his side of the bed, secretly planning the many ways he would torture and kill the caller. If it was one of the boys, he would kick them off the band and if it was anyone from work he'd fire them for ruining what had been a perfect moment. He would make them cry in protest the same way his body was at its separation from Ema's…

"Ja," he said curtly, raising the phone to his ear.

"Need you down at the detention centre," Raoul's tense voice rang through.

Klavier's eyes narrowed. "Right now?"

"Yes, _right now_," Raoul said impatiently. "You think I'd ring you otherwise?"

"What could possibly be so important that you could not wait until morning?"

"Gee, I don't know Gavin," was the sarcastic reply. "Maybe the fact that Deston was almost killed tonight. Again."

His back straightened. _"What?"_

"Yeah. Now I'd appreciate it if you could get your German ass down here."

Klavier glanced at Ema who'd sat up beside him. He stared at her for several lengthy seconds as the last of the warm languor left him. "We're on our way."


	32. The Beginning Of The End

The Beginning Of The End

'.'

Persistence she doth admire,

Thy strength she doth commend,

Yet fury in her doth thou inspire—

And so shall she fight thee to the end.

.'.

The detention centre was eerily quiet when they arrived and Ema could see the tension tauten Klavier's features. He was stiff and silent beside her as the duo walked through the various corridors to be met with a guard who quietly gestured towards the door he was stood outside. Klavier opened it for Ema, stepping aside to let her pass and then followed her. Inside, Seren was pacing back and forth, glancing at the interrogating glass that Deston was standing at.

"Deston!" Ema cried, and he turned to look at her, surprise in his haggard features.

"Hey, Em," he said, smiling at her tiredly. "What you doing here?"

"What do you think?" she said, eyeing the reddening skin on his neck. "What's going on? What happened?"

Deston gestured towards the glass and they all looked through it: Raoul was in the interrogation room with Sloan. The no-nonsense Gavinner was on the other side of the table, seemingly calm as he talked to the man who had tried his best to kill him several hours before.

"What the heck's he doing here?" she asked, aghast. _"Didn't I shoot him?"_

"He was wearing a vest," Deston revealed grimly.

"Your shot only knocked the breath out of him," Seren added.

"What has happened?" Klavier asked, glancing between his band mates. "Raoul said Deston was almost killed again."

"I feel popular tonight," the drummer muttered.

"Deston was interrogating Sloan," Seren explained, moving closer to the glass. "In the middle of questioning, the bastard jumped at his throat and tried strangling him."

Ema and Klavier both snapped their eyes to Deston who was now rubbing his neck as if recalling the attack. Ema touched his shoulder, the contact meant to reassure her that he was indeed okay but he seemed intent on acting as though nothing had happened. He raised an eyebrow at her in what was meant to be an irate expression but she saw the slight smile on his lips. "I'm still not talking to you, Ema," he said light-heartedly.

"This isn't funny!" she snapped, annoyed at how lightly he was taking the situation.

"Did you manage to get anything out of him?" Klavier said, stepping closer to join Deston in his examination of the interrogation and Ema followed his gaze: Raoul was standing over Sloan now and the way his arm was twisted behind his back told Ema he was armed for an attack.

"Not much."

"Don't lie, Deston," Seren said and Ema's eyes narrowed at the scowl on his face. "Sloan admitted that the attack wasn't an attempt on Ema's life. It was Deston they wanted."

The shock to Ema's system was greater than she had anticipated and his face swam hazily before her eyes. Unexpectedly, Klavier, having remained quiet for the most part, marched to the door that led into the interrogation room and held a hand out to Seren who handed him his gun without a word.

Ema's heart leapt into her throat at the sight and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "Klavier, _no_!"

He shook his head, throwing her a reassuring smile. "I will be fine, Ema. I want to talk to him myself. Stay here."

Though she wanted to argue, Ema didn't speak again. Seren swiped his card through the small device on the wall next to the door allowing Klavier to pull it open and sweep into the room; Raoul glanced up at him, nodding in acknowledgement but Sloan remained motionless, staring straight ahead. Tensely, she watched Klavier slip the gun into the back of his waistband while walking to the other side.

"Hello, Herr Sloan," he greeted in a remarkably calm voice. The man's beady eyes turned upwards to meet his and his thick jaw appeared to clench at the sight of him. Ema's insides tightened at the sight and she moved closer to Deston, her fingers slipping around his arm.

"Relax, Ema," he whispered, his own hand sliding over hers. "Nothing will happen to him."

"He almost killed you!" she whispered, unable to take her eyes off Klavier who was staring at Sloan.

"I was alone," Deston said. "There's two of them in there and they both have guns. Have faith."

"Look at the way Sloan's staring at Klavier," Seren muttered suddenly and Ema's heartbeat picked up when she realised he had a point: the assassin was staring at Klavier with something that closely resembled disgust.

Klavier was apparently just as intrigued by their captive's inspection. "Is something wrong?"

"You're the bitch's boyfriend," Sloan said in a gruff voice.

Ema didn't have time to be offended. She was distracted when she heard Deston hiss angrily just as Klavier moved: he backhanded Sloan so hard the man's face swung from the impact and when he turned back, there was a trickle of blood running from a split in his lip.

"I would consider very carefully before insulting her in my presence," Klavier threatened.

"Or mine," Raoul added, unexpectedly (and much to Ema's surprise) mirroring Klavier's move so that Sloan's face swung again. There were splatters of blood on the table and Klavier smirked as Raoul lifted a hand for his scrutiny. "Oh fuckery. I've got blood on my ring."

Ema heard Deston sigh, as if in exasperation, and behind her Seren chuckled.

Klavier threw a glance at his friend. "I am certain it can be easily removed."

"No shit, Gavin," Raoul grunted. "I'm just bothered that his filth dirtied my family's crest."

Ema watched the exchange with something akin to shock. She didn't know what to focus on: the fact that Sloan had identified Klavier as her boyfriend, that Klavier had attacked him for swearing at her or – probably most shocking of all – that Raoul had done the same. She considered him a friend but she'd never assumed anything on his part and that he thought her worth the defense…

"Why do you look so shocked, Em?" Deston was staring at her in amusement.

"I-I didn't…" she trailed off, unsure how to put her thoughts into words.

"Raoul acts like a git– and is a git – but he's not heartless," Seren chipped in and she look at him, taken aback by his comment. "He cares about his friends – and you're one of them."

"But you barely know me," she blurted out and then blushed when Seren's mouth lifted in a smile.

"You hooked me up with Mara, girl," he said with a wink and she smiled wryly. "Do I have to know you before I become your friend?"

"That's not what I meant," Ema protested.

"I know it seems a little odd to you at times, Em," Deston said, drawing her attention back to him, "but we're closer than your average group of guys. We care about the things that matter to our friends."

"We're a family," Seren said simply. "You being who you are and what you mean to Klavier, that automatically makes you a part of it."

"It helps that you saved his life too," Deston added, staring at Raoul.

Ema didn't know what to say to all of that so she simply followed his gaze, her blush deepening and her sense of worth growing. Up until a few months ago, the only family she'd really had was Lana and though she was perfectly happy with her sister, her absence from her life left Ema feeling very lonely. A sense of belonging had grown inside of her since she'd befriended Deston and it intensified now. She'd never been able to verbalise what she had felt but Seren had hit the nail on the head – family was the word. She considered them her family.

Her eyes settled on the red-head and despite his moving lips, she wasn't really listening to him. Her thoughts were turning to the events that had almost got her and her friends killed. She was startled by the thought that she'd saved Raoul's life – she hadn't really thought about it that way and even now she had difficulty perceiving it like that. Something told her that the Gavinner was far too skilled and clever to have been so easily defeated: to her mind, her shooting of Sloan had simply shortened the fight.

"You think it was a good idea to bring Ema here?"

The sound of her name broke her out of her thoughts and she focused on the scene – Raoul was staring at her, an intense expression pulling his features into a frown.

"I could hardly leave her home alone," Klavier said, looking at her too. She was staring at him wide-eyed and he smirked knowingly. "Seems your act of affection has touched her."

Ema glared at Klavier. Raoul snorted.

"You're blushing again," Seren teased and Ema turned her glower on him. "Whoa, girl! If looks could kill!"

"He's right though," Deston said and the seriousness of his voice made it obvious she wasn't going to like whatever he was about to say. "You shouldn't be here, Em. Seren, why don't you—"

"I'm not going anywhere," Ema cut across him stubbornly.

"Ema…" The warning in his tone didn't faze her: she crossed her arms and turned on him.

"Save your ST threat for someone who cares, Cavatin," she said with a glare. "Personally, I was doing perfectly fine without your usual rambling."

She fancied that the silence that followed was the product of his surprise but that hope came crashing down around her in the form of laughter; Deston and Seren both were chuckling and she growled irately.

"You crack me up, babe," Deston said, putting his arm around her shoulders and squeezing her lightly. "No silent treatment then. I'll just ramble on like a fop."

"I'll join him," Seren laughed. "Teasing you is friggin' hilarious."

"I'm glad I'm such an amusing source of entertainment for you both," Ema grumbled. "Now shut up."

She needn't have told them to be quiet; a crusty laugh resounded through the microphone and it drew everyone's attention to the thug who was now shaking his head. His eyes were scrunched up with amusement as he cackled. Klavier looked on coldly as Raoul kicked at the chair. "What's so funny, ya hick?"

"How stupid you all are," Sloan retorted, still grinning.

"Please," Klavier started sardonically, "educate us."

"You're all deluding yourself into thinkin' you can win this war," he said, turning away to look at wall again, his smile fading. "There's nuttin' you can do."

"That's a mighty big opinion for someone without a brain," Raoul mocked. "You sure you've got the authority to be saying shit like that without your mistress' permission?"

"She ain't the one I gotta need permission from, _boy_."

Ema saw Klavier's eyes narrow at the enjoyment evident in Sloan's face and he cast a glance at Raoul who was watching the brawny man with a calculating look.

"Don't respect women very much do ya?" the red-head said casually while perching himself on the edge of the table. "First you attack my friend and torture her—" Ema winced at the word "—and now you're disrespecting your boss."

"But Herr Sloan is not acting upon Fräulein Ethans' orders, is he?" the prosecutor said meaningfully and though Ema felt Deston stir, she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the interrogation. "It is Herr Rainsford's orders he is following."

"It don't make a difference," Raoul said dismissively. "Father and daughter's interests are aligned."

Much to their surprise, Sloan threw his head back and started laughing as if they'd said something particularly funny. His body shook with the force of his laughter and Klavier and Raoul waited with tight expressions until his mirth diminished into mere chuckles.

"Now that you are calm," Klavier said icily, "would you care to share what is so amusing?"

"They were right," Sloan said and the way he was grinning made Ema sick to the stomach. "You kids are predictable."

Raoul, now visibly angry, kicked at Sloan's chair again. "Quit talkin' in riddles, dickweasel."

"What," Sloan said, looking up at Raoul with a smirk, "you think Rafael dint know Crescend would tell you what we were gonna do?"

Deston and Seren both jerked simultaneously while Ema's fists curled. Raoul, on the other hand, had had enough – he pulled out his gun and cocked it in Sloan's face. "Spill the beans, Sloan," he snarled.

The man remained unaffected by the threat. "Killin' Cavatin wasn't our primary aim," he said in a bored voice and suddenly turned to look at Deston. His expression was almost wistful. "It would have been great if we'd managed though."

"_What the fuck is your aim?" _

"Lamb to the slaughter, Adagio," Sloan replied, turning back to the furious Gavinner.

"You son of a—"

"Enough," Klavier interrupted sharply, putting a hand to Raoul's shoulder to restrain him, before addressing the thug again. "We have neither the patience nor the time for your word games, Sloan. Tell us why you tried to kill Deston."

"He's a liability."

"There's a shocker," Deston muttered sarcastically.

"We are all liabilities," Klavier pointed out.

"I know." Sloan flashed an evil grin. "That's why you're all gonna die."

"In your dreams," Raoul hissed.

"It's already started," Sloan said as if he hadn't heard him and looked away again. "You ain't got a chance."

Ema's breathing had turned rough and she wanted to shout, wanted to yell at Klavier to get out of there – a dark sense of foreboding was shrouding the rooms in its dark embrace. Her fingers dug into Deston's arm and in the back of her mind, she knew she might be hurting him but she was past caring. As if aware of her panic, Klavier glanced at Ema and there was consternation in his gaze.

"What do you mean it has started?" Klavier asked.

"Crescend's gonna wish he never opened his trap," Sloan replied, amused.

"Shit." Deston spun on the spot. "Seren—"

The green-clad Gavinner was already sprinting out of the room and there was no doubt in Ema's mind where Seren had gone. Her own fear for Daryan was heightened when she felt Deston shudder violently and saw the fury in his eyes. A movement out of the corner of her eye drew her back to the interrogation room – Raoul had hit Sloan with the butt of his gun and was now pulling him to his feet violently._ "Tell me what you've done to him!"_ he shouted.

"We ain't that tacky," Sloan said calmly, not bothering to push Raoul's hands away. "Crescend's gotta suffer first."

Raoul was frozen for a split moment and then he dropped Sloan. The Gavinner turned an ashen face to Deston and she followed his horrified gaze, confused and frightened by the look. As soon as she saw her friend's eyes, Ema knew – it was like someone had dropped an anvil on her head.

She didn't know who said the name. It didn't really matter. All that mattered was who it referred to and that it was someone she cared about.

"_Tessa."_

.'.

Klavier didn't know who it was that had Ema and both his friends terrified into silence as they raced through the hospital. Raoul and Deston appeared to have lost the ability to speak and though he hated not knowing what was going on, he acceded that they knew what they were doing and he would remain quiet for now. Admittedly, the way Ema clung to him left him little space to think about whatever else was going on – the way that she stared ahead, her eyes shining with dread, alarmed him and he held her hand, wishing he could comfort her.

Who was Tessa and why did the name sound so familiar to him? He had gathered she was affiliated with Daryan but he could not remember his friend ever having mentioned her.

"Son of a _bitch!_" Raoul shouted, startling Klavier.

Suddenly, the red-head was running down the hall, frightening several nurses and doctors. A dark figure had emerged from one of the rooms and upon seeing Raoul's advance, it spun on the spot and ran away. Klavier's hand was on the gun in his waistband again but Deston held a hand out to him, stopping mid-step as he watched Raoul give chase to the figure.

Suddenly, Ema detached herself from him and was running away from him, towards the very door the silhouette had exited.

"_Ema!"_

Deston and Klavier sped after her. His heart nearly stopped when he realised that she might be running straight into danger but as they entered the room, they found Ema leaning over a bed, her shoulders heaving as she shook the bed-ridden form.

"Tessa?" Ema cried. _"Tessa!"_

Klavier froze when he saw the blond woman. Her eyes were closed and her complexion sickly white. The monitors beside her were starting to beep chillingly and though he recognised her, the prosecutor wasted no time trying to place her in the blank of his mind. He hit the button on the wall, setting off the alarm, and within seconds there was a flurry of activity from nurses and doctors who were spilling into the room, shouting commands and requests and bundling them out but Ema was shouting, demanding to know what was happening and Deston and Klavier held her, gently leading her out.

"Shhh," Klavier soothed, pulling her to him gently as he tried to calm her. "Everything will be alright."

"What's happening?" she cried, rounding on Deston who was standing a foot away from them, staring down the hall. He turned at the sound of her voice and Klavier grimaced at the helpless expression on his friend's face.

"I don't know, Em," he said quietly and Klavier spotted the lie immediately. Deston looked away again and the prosecutor followed his gaze now: Raoul was walking back towards them, an ugly look on his face.

"I lost him," he spat as if disgusted with himself.

"It's not important right now," Deston said, running a hand through his hair and gesturing aimlessly around him.

Their distress caught Raoul's attention. He glanced at the closed door before turning back to his friend. "What the hell's going on?" He pushed past Deston and glanced through the window before rounding on them fiercely. "What's happened to Tessa?"

Deston could barely conceal the pain in his voice. "I don't know."

Raoul saw the lie too: his face paled and there was a split moment of frozen horror. Klavier felt Ema jump when Raoul punched the wall, screaming curses, and after a moment, he seemed to run out of air; the red-head slumped against the wall, defeatedly. He slowly sank to the ground where his shaking hands found refuge in his hair and his head rested against his knees.

Klavier was distracted when Ema turned and buried her face in his neck. There was no crying: she was still and silent as she wrapped her arms around his waist and he held her, wishing he knew how to help her. In the silence that hung around them, Klavier realised how deeply ignorant he was of the situation and though his mind was putting the pieces together, he still wasn't believing it. Keeping his arms wrapped tightly around Ema, he called Deston's name. The man turned to Klavier, struggling to disguise his anguish.

"Tell me who she is," Klavier said softly, scrutinising his friend's expression and feeling an unpleasant jolt when it flickered briefly.

Raoul looked at Klavier – there was a grim determination in his gaze too. They were giving him the look that Klavier had once given Deston, right before he'd told him about Raina. A shiver went up his spine and he didn't know where his presumption came from – it was like an invasion, conquering the fortress of denial he'd been hiding behind and it left him feeling violated and angry and sad. The bleak apology in Deston's gaze and the hard set of Raoul's jaw was like the opening of an old wound that he wasn't sure would stop bleeding this time. There was a feeling that all of his questions about Daryan were about to be answered and he wasn't going to be satisfied. He could see the answer in their eyes and hear it in the silence. He could taste it on the air.

"Klavier…"

It was Ema that spoke and he looked at her as she extracted herself from his grasp. Her wide eyes were filled to the brim with fear and resignation and she shook her head. With a jolt, he realised she knew the truth too – she had the answer to his question.

"Ema?" he murmured, searching her eyes. "Tell me who she is?"

"Klavier—"

Deston was there now, moving Ema away from him and pushing her toward Raoul who had jumped to his feet. Klavier frowned but before he could question the odd way that Raoul was pulling her farther back, the door opened and all four of them turned to the doctor simultaneously. His grave expression weighed heavy on the familiar darkness that was swirling in his mind.

"Mr Cavatin," he said, pulling the door close behind him. "I need to speak to you in private."

"There's no need," Deston said shortly. "Say whatever you need to say now. We're short on time. What's wrong with her?"

The doctor hesitated but, seeing the look on Deston's face, gave in. He sighed heavily and the sound was dark and foreboding and it left Klavier feeling cold. "Tessa was poisoned," he said shortly. Klavier's fists tightened. "We've injected her with an antidote but given the brutality of Incuritis on her immune system and the strength of the poison, she's unable to fight off the effects. It's spreading."

He paused at the sharp intake of breath from Raoul. "What are you saying?" Deston asked slowly.

The man wavered again but when he spoke next, his voice rang with a finality beyond argument. "It… is highly unlikely that Tessa will survive the night."

Petrified astonishment pervaded all of them – even Klavier. His entire being trembled with the revelation of her condition and he was rendered speechless. Ema was whispering to herself and Deston let out a long, ragged sigh, no longer caring to hide the distress on his face.

Raoul snarled. "Get the fuck back in there and sort her out, doc, or I'm gonna—"

"Raoul," Klavier interrupted quietly, silencing his friend. The man threw a glare at Klavier but didn't retaliate – his anger turned inwards and he broke out in foreign curses that, while he couldn't understand them, Klavier knew were an echo of his denial.

"I am sorry," the doctor murmured. A moment of silence fell between them and then the doctor slipped away, back inside the room.

Klavier walked to Ema, who'd buried her face in her hands and was now shaking. Gently, he enveloped her in his arms and kissed her temple, knowing that no words could help her. He rested his cheek against her hair and tried to comfort her with his presence, his love and his understanding.

"Somebody—"

Deston's choked voice was so unfamiliar and alien that it took Klavier a moment to recognise it. The drummer shook his head and cleared his throat to start again. "I should—"

He broke off again. Klavier was watching him with mounting sorrow as the truth finally sank its razor-sharp claws in him. A part of him was fearful of asking the question, terrified that the answer would shake his conviction and throw all of his justified rage out of balance. The more logical part of him, however, knew time was a luxury he didn't have and that he already knew the answer – he just needed to hear it so that he could do what was needed. He needed to hear the words so that he could find the strength for what was coming.

"Who is she to Daryan?"

The question fell from his lips short and fast, made blunt by his dread and impatience. Deston and Raoul both looked at him with deadened eyes and when it came, quiet and rhetorical, the ground shook beneath his feet. With the answer slicing into the silence, Klavier felt the protection of his shields fall away – all of his reasons and his anger buckled under the truth.

The truth.

_The truth_ – the one thing he had always endeavoured to find and the one thing he hadn't seen as it stared him in the face. For all of the times he had spent in the courtroom – and outside of it – looking for that elusive essence of life, he had been woefully ignorant of it this one time when it had mattered so much. How had he misjudged his friend so badly? Having known that Daryan couldn't possibly have done it for greed, for evil… how had he failed to search for the answer to the question? How had he been so blind up until now when it was all over?

"Klavier?"

Ema was looking up into his face, her voice barely above a whisper. He could see the conflicting worry and sadness in her features and he smiled at her wearily, his own insides beginning to ache with realisation.

"I will bring him," he said quietly, looking at both his friends. Neither of them looked surprised by the announcement. He turned back to Ema and gave her hand a squeeze. "Will you be okay here?"

She nodded instantly without thought and, as if to show her conviction, she took a step back from him. Klavier watched her for several moments, his head beginning to fill with self-deprecations and sorrow. She was to him… what Tessa was to Daryan. He had loved her so much that he had murdered for his other half and though Klavier may not have understood it on the day that Daryan fell, he understood now – now when it was too late.

Klavier turned around and willed his legs to listen to the commands of his mind. With a heavy heart, the prosecutor walked, each step upon step like a lash to his soul for the betrayal he was guilty of and hadn't recognised. The air was thick with the stench of disbelief at his stupidity as a single thought spun through the facets of his being: in spite of Klavier's cold dismissal and his own heartbreaking situation, Daryan had tried to save Ema for him. And what had Klavier done?

He'd failed his best friend.


	33. Symbiont Souls

Symbiont Souls

'.'

The Call is come and I arise,

So step away and close thine eyes;

The time is nigh and as I depart

Peace resides within my heart.

.'.

Daryan was perched on the edge of his bed when Klavier stepped through the door. His black hair fell all around him, shielding his face, but he'd known Daryan long enough to recognise that the frozen posture was a product of his frustration, his tension and anger. Hearing the door slam shut, Daryan's head snapped up and his eyebrows lifted slightly when he saw Klavier, minor surprise in his inspecting eyes. Slowly, his fingers untangled and he rose to his feet lazily as was his habit. Klavier might have smiled were it not for the dread that churned his insides.

"What," Daryan started, walking towards the bars, his steely eyes fixed intently on Klavier, "the _hell _is going on?"

Klavier said nothing.

"First Seren comes in here looking like the freakin' cowardly lion and now _you're_ here." Daryan's jaw hardened. "I don't want any games. Tell me what the fuck is goin' on, Gavin."

Klavier glanced down at the clothes in his hands and swallowed against the words making their way up his throat. There were so many things he wanted to ask Daryan: how long had he loved her? How could he have married her without telling any of them? When did she fall ill?

And why had he never told Klavier about her?

"Spit it out, Gavin," Daryan snapped.

How could he? There were no words — only shock. Now that he was face to face with Daryan, his friend was nothing more than a giant question mark. Never had Daryan felt more like a brother while feeling so alien.

_What can I say? What should I say? _

"Daryan…"

The dark-haired man's eyes narrowed at the hesitancy in Klavier's voice, something he had rarely heard. Seeing Daryan's anxiously furious countenance, he cleared his throat and took a quiet breath to pull himself together. No matter his own questions, he had to put it all aside because there was a woman lying in a hospital bed who needed her husband. So with firm hands and averted eyes, Klavier unlocked the cell door and threw it open.

"Put these on," he instructed, throwing the clothes at Daryan who caught them with an ease that belied the storm brewing in his steely eyes.

"Are we going somewhere?"

Klavier turned away to hide the emotion he knew his gaze would betray. He didn't know how to handle it, didn't know how to tell Daryan the reason for his visit. It wasn't that he'd never been in a situation like this before — years ago, he'd watched as the news of Raina's death broke Deston into tiny fragments of grief and he'd been the one to tell him that his reason for living was gone.

So what was it that made this so different?

He knew the answer. It came to him long before he'd even finished thinking the question.

It was different because Daryan was his best friend, had known him the longest. He'd watched the dark man seduce woman after woman, without ever the promise of settling down, the slightest hope for love. Now, suddenly, he was faced with Daryan's _wife_, the woman he'd been willing to break all moral codes for, to cast aside his ethics for — she was the woman whose life meant more to Daryan than anyone else's. Klavier should have been angry at Daryan's selfishness, his lack of morality all for the sake of a woman, and once he might have been.

Once, when he hadn't known what Ema meant to him.

He didn't know if he would take another person's life. And how did Klavier know that Daryan had murdered in cold blood? He'd learnt from recent experience that any threat to Ema rendered him incoherent and incapable of thought. Had it not been for Seren, Klavier may have possibly killed himself jumping from the car at the speed it had been going. He understood too well the madness that accompanied his love. He didn't know if he would be willing to risk everything his friends had for her sake. He didn't know anything except that he loved Ema with a passion that belied reason.

And now that he could finally see Daryan's life through his eyes, the blood-red clarity of it made his stomach twist with sadness.

"Daryan," he said quietly, his back still to his friend. "Please hurry. We do not have much time."

He didn't expect an argument and he got none. Daryan was intelligent enough to know this was not the time for wasting time with questions, no matter how important they may be, and Klavier heard the man's movements as they signalled his obedience. No doubt worried by Klavier's presence, though not showing it, Daryan was fast and within minutes he was by Klavier's side, his stormy eyes boring holes into his face.

"Lead the way, Klavier."

The prosecutor's feet stalled and he looked down at them, half-surprised, half-irked at himself for his cowardice. Daryan and Tessa didn't have time for his shock and horror and he couldn't waste precious moments of what little time they _had_ left. With this knowledge in mind, he gestured for Daryan to step out, following suit and then, with a silence that deafened him, Klavier walked.

He walked as fast as his legs could carry him, as fast as he possibly could without breaking into a run and as fast as the one thought that turned around and around in his mind: _Tessa was dying and there was nothing he could do to save her._

Daryan didn't question him once. Not when the prosecutor led him out of the prison, frowning at the guard that automatically followed them and signalling there was no need to do so while throwing the keys at him. He said not a word when they passed the heavy security at the front of the building without any resistance and when the fresh air hit his face, Daryan simply breathed in deeply, wistfully looking at the sky.

For a moment, the Gavinner stopped in his tracks and stared up as if he were seeing the blackness for the first time and there was an answer in the scattered stars to all his questions. Klavier followed his gaze and saw the velvet darkness that receded into lightening blue in the far horizon. His heart clenched at the new thoughts that tortured him.

_This dawn should have brought victory, _he thought. _It is the last dawn Rafael will live through. _The coming amber of sunrise should have carried the symbolism of a new beginning — not the haunting promise of a tragic end. And yet somehow, there was nothing fresh, nothing new about the horizon. It was a dismal colour — like that of a cold day defying the bright sunshine. No matter how dazzling the light, the cold still bit into the skin, reminding the mind of its bitter presence.

"What time is it?"

He glanced at his watch as he pressed the button on his key to unlock the car. "It is almost 3 AM."

"This must be pretty important," Daryan said, moving around the car and pausing to look at Klavier over the roof pointedly. The blond cringed inwardly but simply nodded before sliding into his seat. There was a tense moment when he thrust his key into the ignition and fired the car up and Daryan was still standing outside. Klavier waited edgily, looking out ahead, and wondering if Daryan would get in but then, with a thump to the roof, he followed suit and shut the car door with a frustrated bang.

Klavier didn't give his friend a chance to change his mind: the revving engine only added to the strained silence and weighed in on the unspoken between them. With each passing minute and every yard he put behind them, Klavier sensed Daryan's rising ire and restlessness. Every so often, he would reach out to the light skin of his middle finger where Klavier had once seen three silver bands. Given the Gavinners style and penchant for jewellery, he'd thought nothing of it but with the knowledge he'd now acquired, Klavier finally saw the hidden depth to this small act.

With one hand on still on the wheel, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the small plastic bag. Sparing one glance at the ring it housed, he held it out to a frowning Daryan.

"I thought you might like this back," Klavier said quietly as Daryan took the package.

"They confiscated it when I got thrown in the slammer," Daryan muttered, rolling the ring around between his fingers. Then, suddenly, he stopped and turned to Klavier. "Did you—?"

Without meaning to, the prosecutor sped up and his mouth tightened at the corners.

"Ja."

He didn't quite know what had triggered it nor where the idea had come from: on his way in, Klavier had asked the guard for the rings, curiosity rearing it's ugly head at the wrong time. He'd examined each one and when he'd found the engravings on the inside of the third one, Klavier had not been surprised. He'd eyed the words with misery, not able to understand why Daryan had kept such a secret, even going to the extreme of camouflaging the ring among the other two and wearing them on the wrong finger.

"'_A perfect fit'_," he said now, reciting the words he'd seen. "_'Love you, Tess.'_"

Daryan was still.

Klavier kept his eyes on the road ahead, not bothering to look to Daryan for an answer, waiting instead to let the revelation of his knowledge sink in.

Slowly, Daryan slipped the band onto his ring finger. Then, with great deliberation, he turned to Klavier, who felt the intensity of his friend's gaze burn holes into the side of his face. He waited for Daryan to say something but he was wordlessly staring at him.

"Why did you not tell me?"

The question was expectant, yet the voice was calm and the tone sad. Though he'd no doubt been expecting it, Daryan's frozen form seemed to jerk involuntarily and then he deflated as if all of the air had gone out of him. In the brief quiet that followed, Klavier heard something shatter between them — the carefully structured wedge they had both created.

"She wanted to keep it low-key," Daryan said, his voice low. "I had no choice but to keep it to myself. I didn't want the damn media ruining—"

He broke off but Klavier knew the end of that sentence; _ruining my chance at finally being happy. _

"Could you not trust us?" Klavier asked quietly.

"It had nothing to do with not trusting you," Daryan answered coolly. "It was a matter of her trusting me."

"And when you married her?" Klavier pushed though something inside was telling him now was not the time, that instead of all of this he should find a way to prepare Daryan for what waited ahead but years of friendship and weeks of pain wouldn't let him. "You could not tell us then either?"

Daryan didn't answer. When Klavier looked at him, the dark-haired man was looking out of the window, a torn expression on his face and suddenly he knew the answer to his own question.

"She was diagnosed with Incuritis."

Daryan whipped around to look at Klavier when he spoke but the '_how do you know?_' in his eyes never made it to his lips. He exhaled deeply and nodded instead, looking away again.

"Yeah."

"And you did not think to share this with us?" Klavier said, unable to prevent the emotion that poured into his voice. "You did not believe I could have helped to save her? What made you think murder was the only sol—"

"I _didn't_ think!" Daryan snapped. "I didn't have the time for you to spin your influence, for those damned Borginians to make a decision, _Godammit_! I was losing my _wife_! I was fuckin' desperate!"

Klavier squeezed the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white; the undeniability of Daryan's argument battled with the morality that was ingrained into the deepest recesses of his soul. His loyalty to Daryan fought with his sense of right and wrong and with each thought that whirled in his mind, Klavier's grip tightened.

The movement was not lost on Daryan.

"I know what's got your panties in a twist, Gavin," he sneered, "but if it was Ema dying, I know you would turn the freakin' world upside down to save her."

"I would," he answered, without thinking. "I do not deny it."

"That's what I was doin' for Tess," Daryan said, a hint of anger still in his voice, as he looked out of the window again. "So stop wearing me low on this, Klavier."

The prosecutor didn't push it. He didn't know if he would resort to murder for Ema but the vow he'd made never to use his power for personal reasons would most certainly have been broken. All of his work ethics would have — _had _— gone out of the window for Ema.

Still, a part of him couldn't quite accept that Daryan had kept Tessa secret because she'd asked him to. Her illness and the subsequent plan he'd made had already been unsafe enough without his friends knowing; if Klavier, Deston Raoul or Seren had even caught the slightest hint of cocoon involvement should the plan go awry, they would have instantly known who was behind it. Daryan, Klavier realised, had already know the plan was rife with risks.

And there _had_ been a risk — LeTouse. He had paid with his life. And Machi had almost taken the fall.

"I didn't mean to kill him."

Klavier looked at Daryan, almost taken aback by the comment. It was as if Daryan had known exactly what he was thinking.

"LeTouse." Silver eyes turned on him, now filled with remorse and regret. "He pushed all the wrong buttons. He was so _condescending_, calmly telling me I would rot in prison and all I could think of—"

He shuddered in a way that told Klavier he was reliving the anger.

"I lost it. I didn't care who he was and that he didn't know my situation. All I was thinking was if I got caught, Tess would die. I couldn't count on you, you didn't know about her—" Klavier winced "—I was the only one who could do anything. I'd burnt the only remaining piece of cocoon. Only I could… could…"

Again, he quietened, and again Klavier knew what the end of that sentence was. "Only you could go back to Borginia and get another one," he finished.

"I would have admitted to the truth as soon as I knew Tess was safe," Daryan mumbled, looking down at his ring. "Tobaye was only meant to temporarily—"

Another break. Another moment of silence. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"He was only a child, Daryan," Klavier said softly.

The quiet that followed was conclusive and he knew that Daryan was through sharing his motives and his thoughts. There was no doubt that it was in respect of the guilt his words had caused that kept Daryan from responding. Klavier wanted to say some words of comfort, to show him his understanding and forgiveness and he wanted to tell him that he would help him but even thinking the thoughts felt inadequate. How could he voice them at a time like this?

Suddenly, his friend's back straightened but Klavier didn't need to ask why — the hospital building loomed over them as he pulled into the parking lot and swept the car neatly into a parking spot. His fingers were unsteady as they turned the key in the ignition and he cursed himself for the same weakness that had overtaken him in the prison cell. He had no time to mince words, to prepare himself for this moment. This wasn't about him. It was about his friend: Tessa needed Daryan and Daryan needed Tessa.

_Get this over with! _his mind screamed. _Stop wasting time! Has he not suffered enough?_

Daryan was staring at the hospital stiffly and Klavier knew that the man had realised what this was all about. The prosecutor closed his eyes for a split moment, took a deep breath and turned to his friend's frozen form.

But before he could get a word out, Daryan had thrown the door open and was gone in a flash.

"_Daryan!" _

But he was already nearly halfway across the lot. Cursing, and not really caring that he was leaving his car doors open, Klavier raced after him. Just like Klavier could finish Daryan's sentences, so, too, could the detective interpret Klavier's stifling silence, and recognise the lurking anguish behind his eyes.

There was doubt about Daryan's destination; Klavier knew where his friend was going so he didn't try to stop him, didn't call out to him. He simply ran after him — right across the car park, through the doors and past the frightened hospital staff that stared at them with wide eyes.

Daryan had always been fast, faster than all of them, but this was a different kind of speed. His fuel was fear and disbelief and Klavier knew how hot those burned inside. Within a few short moments, he was there again, running down the same hallway, his slowing footsteps echoing loudly. Daryan was standing outside her room and when Klavier reached him and put a hand on his shoulder, Daryan shuddered as if the contact was poison to him.

Then, without a word, he reached out to push the half-open door.

The sight that met them was unlike any that Klavier had ever seen before; the air was thick with the stench of sadness and rife with despair. Ema was standing over Tessa, holding her hand while Deston, Seren and Raoul sat silently beside the bed, their heads lowered in defeat. At the sound of the door opening, their eyes rose to lock upon Daryan.

But he only had eyes for her.

The slight sheen of perspiration covering Tessa's skin and her shallow breaths were lost on nobody. Her eyes were closed and Klavier felt his heart jump at the sight despite the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Daryan sucked in a sharp breath and, as if she had recognised the sound, Tessa's eyes fluttered open. Her head turned, her eyes seeking Daryan instantly, and a light seemed to spark in her gaze when she saw him.

"Daryan," she breathed.

He approached her slowly and Ema let go of Tessa's hand, stepping back as if Daryan had ordered it but he barely looked at her. The dark-haired man was giving Tessa a hard stare.

"_Where_," he started, his voice a low hiss, "do you think you're going, woman?"

"Vacation," Tess said, without missing a beat.

"No you're not," Daryan growled, his fists clenching. "I'll be damned if I let you go anywhere."

"Why?" Tessa asked, a teasing glint in her eye. "Afraid I'll…" she paused to breathe deeply, and her chest heaved with the effort it took to speak. "…meet someone m-more handsome?"

Shock rippled through them all: Ema's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened. Deston ducked his head again, running a hand through his hair and Raoul and Klavier jerked involuntarily. Seren was frozen.

Klavier didn't know what he'd been expecting once Daryan finally reached Tessa's side — he hadn't pictured the man breaking down but this hard denial in the face of her wit was something he could not have imagined in his wildest dreams.

_How can she joke about this?_ Klavier thought, gazing at them wondrously. _How can she look death in the eye and laugh so fearlessly? _

"You're gonna fight this," Daryan said fiercely. "You're going to fight this or so help me God, I'll turn the whole _fuckin'_ world upside down! I'll—"

"Daryan," she whispered, reaching out to him.

He went still, his mouth clamping shut as if she'd commanded him to be quiet. His eyes fell to the pale, slender hand stretched out toward him and Klavier saw a powerful shudder go through Daryan, the type that threatened to undo the seams holding him together. He stared at her hand for endless moments, despair distorting his features, and then he looked back up at her with stubborn refusal in his eyes.

"No," he said furiously. "Snap out of it, Tess. You're gonna beat this thing."

Deston looked at Klavier with a question in his eyes: _doesn't he know?_

Klavier shook his head morosely and Deston turned a dismayed gaze on Daryan who was staring at Tessa with intense denial — he was shaking his head to emphasise his refusal to believe that she could be dying. Tessa's hand was still outstretched but Daryan only added to the space between them both as if the feel of her skin would confirm his darkest fear. She was looking at him despondently, her own grief coming to the fore as her blue eyes darted between his.

"You promised me forever," Daryan said harshly. "Do you think I'm the kind of man you can make promises like that to and not fulfil them? What the hell made you _think_ you could give up on me? What—"

"_I love you," _she whispered.

The ice shattered in his eyes.

And then they watched, helpless, as his expression crumble into devastation. The fierce resolve faded until there was nothing but the face of a hollow man that Klavier had never seen; the harsh set of Daryan's mouth, the coolness of his silvery eyes and the hard set of his jaw was nowhere to be found. For the longest time, that face had been Klavier's friend. Now he saw it for what it really was — and what lay beneath it.

"Please, don't leave me," Daryan whispered brokenly, his hands wrapping around hers at last.

Tessa said nothing except to wrap both hands around his and draw him closer. Klavier watched, his heart in his throat, as a new Daryan emerged, pulled out by his pain; he fell against the bed, his forehead resting against hers, as he whispered endless words that Klavier didn't need to hear to understand.

And then Ema was there next to him, her fingers snaking around his, and she was pulling him away. He could barely take his eyes off Daryan's shaking form as it slowly began to fall apart under Tessa's touch, couldn't tear his gaze away from the sheer heartbreak in his friend's face.

"_Klavier." _

The whisper was barely audible but its urgency grabbed all of his attention and he turned to Deston slowly who was now standing beside him, his gray eyes darting between his own in a bid for him to listen.

"We need to talk."

The prosecutor turned back to look at his friend. The man that stood hunched over his wife was not the man he knew. Klavier could almost see the burden of her impending death on his shoulders like the weight of the universe. He could see it caving inwards, sucking him into its blackness of despair and destruction…

"Klavier."

Sensation and control was lost to him. Suddenly, all that he could register was that Daryan and Tessa's voices were receding, the sight of them moving out of his vision until a blank, white door cut off his view of them completely. For a moment, his heart stopped as his mind took a few moments to understand what had happened and then he shook his head and looked around to see Deston and Ema, both of them staring at him.

"Focus, K," Deston said.

Klavier shook his head again to clear it and willed himself to regain control. "What is it?"

"I've spoken to the doctor," Deston said, his expression turning bleak. "We think maybe if we can—" he paused, swallowing hard "— if we can cure her Incuritis, she'll be able to fight off the poison."

"Cure her of… _No!_" Klavier shouted, realising what Deston meant. He shook his head violently and rubbing his eyes. "Even if the Borginian government were to allow us access to a cocoon, it would take too long."

"What do we have to lose by trying?"

"How do you plan on doing this?" Klavier demanded. "She has but a few hours left."

"A few hours is all I need to give her her life back," Deston pointed out.

"No," Klavier repeated, shaking his head. "You are wasting your time."

Deston's eyes flashed and he looked angry now. "_What_ do you have against the idea, Gavin?"

"_DARYAN NEEDS YOU HERE!"_ Klavier exploded, pointing at the door aggressively. "Not off on some wild goose chase that will _yield no results_!"

Deston's eyes softened but it wasn't him that spoke next: a gentle squeeze of his fingers reminded him that Ema was still holding his hand. She was right there, standing beside him.

"We have to try."

Somehow, when it came from her, in her voice, it changed his whole perspective. Myriad questions crossed his mind that dampened his temper. What would he want Deston to do if she was dying? The answer was so obvious it barely warranted the moment it took to think it: he would want all of them to be out there, looking for a way to save her.

And hadn't they essentially done that? When she was kidnapped, hadn't they dropped everything in their hands to be there as he searched for her? And when they had learned of her whereabouts, had they not been the ones in the lead, right there by his side?

Who had it been to warn Klavier of Rafael's plan to hurt Ema? Daryan may not have done more than that but his knowledge had been a sign of his ever-watchful nature. No matter what had transpired between he and Klavier, the latter knew Daryan would watch his back, would do anything for him and his happiness.

When Sloan and his men had attacked, who had it been to jump forward to protect her without a second thought? Who had it been that had raced across fallen bodies and burning smoke to reach her side when she'd collapsed to the ground?

It had been them — his colleagues, his friends, his family… his brothers.

So why was he protesting now? Why, when it was someone else's turn to be helped, was he vehemently objecting to an idea which might save them both?

Simply because he had resigned himself to Tessa's death. He wanted them all to be there when Daryan saw his life slipping away.

And his best friend deserved more than that. Tessa deserved more than his cowardly acceptance of defeat.

"Go," he said heavily, looking at Deston. "Find a way."

Deston nodded and when he spoke again, it was with downcast eyes. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you about Tess."

Klavier looked away, feeling the emptiness begin to swallow him and, as if sensing his turmoil, Ema wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest, and he hugged her without hesitation, knowing that she was taking as much comfort from him as she was giving. She was still and silent around him and suddenly she felt so small and tired and upset that Klavier wanted to hide her away from the world so that she would no longer have to deal with the horrors of life.

"You didn't tell him, did you?" Deston asked suddenly and Klavier looked at him over her head. "That she was poisoned?"

"No."

"Good." Deston shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. "Don't. He'll just spend his time with her going crazy over—"

His jaw clenched tightly, cutting off the rest of the sentence.

"Go," Klavier said again as Ema detached herself from him. "Hurry."

His only response was to pull Ema into a quick hug and drop a kiss on her forehead. He stared at her for moment, as if he was telling her something with his eyes and then he looked at Klavier and nodded much the same way she had. There was a split moment of hesitation when he looked like he might say something but seemed to change his mind. He turned on the spot, his eyes sliding to the closed door as he did so, and his expression tautened into determination.

Then he took off. He was running, running down the hallway as if the very fires of Hell were licking at his feet.

They watched him go, both tense with a fear of the unknown and a barely suppressed hope rising in their minds. Every muscle in Klavier's body was tight with apprehension as he watched his friend disappear through the doors, knowing that if anyone could achieve the impossible, it would be Deston. A history with the SS had left the agent with many contacts and considerable influence — something he was sure Deston would use to his advantage now when he needed it the most.

Something, he hoped, would help them.

"What now?"

Klavier wished he could give her a more optimistic answer as he turned his eyes to her troubled ones and kissed her temple.

"Now we wait."

_Wait for her to live._

_Wait for her to die._

* * *

It was 7 in the morning when Klavier was shaken awake by a hand on his shoulder.

His eyes flew open and he followed the tanned hand to its source: Raoul was staring down at him so dully that Klavier almost panicked until Raoul shook his head, raising his hands to allay his fears.

"She's fine," he reassured Klavier. "I've just arranged security for as long as Daryan's here."

"Did you obtain the necessary forms of approval?"

Raoul was nodding. He sighed and raked a hand through his unkempt hair, nodding at Ema who lay across the bench, her head resting on the jacket splayed across Klavier's legs. "Has she been here all that time?"

Klavier ran a hand over her head as Raoul found a chair and drew it up next to them. "I knew it would be futile to try and take her home," he said, remembering Ema's insistence at staying when he'd suggested some rest. "She appears to possess a deep friendship with Tessa."

Raoul nodded, leaning forward so that his arms were leaning on his legs and he was looking down at his clasped hands. "They're good friends…" He paused as if there was something more he wanted to say.

"What is it?" Klavier said, seeing his expression.

Raoul's mouth lifted into the ghost of a smirk. "Ya know how Deston jumped your girl to get your ass moving in this dragged-out romance?"

Klavier frowned. "What of it?"

"Daryan and Tessa were part of it. Yeah," he added with an uncharacteristically gentle laugh when Klavier looked surprised. "My gut tells me that Tessa had more to do with this—" he gestured vaguely between Ema and Klavier "—than any of us realise."

Klavier looked down at Ema's sleeping form. "Then I owe her my everything." His fingers skimmed over her hair thoughtfully. "I do not know what to say… I do not know what to do…" He looked at his friend. "I wish I had met her under more pleasant circumstances."

Raoul said nothing.

"I wish I had known about her from the start so that I could have helped them both."

"They didn't wanna lie to you, you know," Raoul said quietly. "It just got outta hand."

"I am not angry," Klavier murmured.

So what was he?

_Numb_, he told himself. _I am numb. I have been ignorant to the troubles of my friend since before his incarceration and now, when I finally know the truth, I am unable to do anything to help him. I am useless._

Raoul ran both his hands through his hair, leaning against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. In his lap, Ema stirred and Klavier looked down at her again, his heart filling with love.

What would he ever do without her? If tomorrow somebody told him that losing her before they had lived would be a sure certainty, what would his reaction be? How would he survive, watching her fight a losing battle every day while wishing he could switch their lives so she would be free and he could suffer instead? And would he simply wait for her to die if he knew she could be saved and the only thing hindering him was… was the law? Would he always choose the law above her? Did he value a flawed system over the very essence of life?

_No. Never._

And she suddenly felt more precious and breakable than ever. Now, as she rested across his lap, he was awestruck by her beauty and his need for it. Everything inside of her was his oxygen, his water, his food, his _sustenance._ And in the end, there was nothing that mattered more to a man than his life.

"How is he?"

Raoul didn't need to ask who Klavier was talking about. "I don't know, man." He exhaled heavily. "They've just been talkin' like nothing's wrong."

"Have you been with them all night?"

"On and off. Left them alone for now."

"Is Deston back yet?" Klavier asked.

Raoul shook his head and he fought hard to keep his breathing even, to stop himself from assuming the worst.

"What is Tessa's condition now?"

"She's hanging on," Raoul said. "The doc's been giving her somethin' to fight the poison. Every breath she's takin' is a damn miracle."

Klavier squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as the words pieced him painfully and then he looked at Raoul, his mind restless to obtain what it had craved for so long, what he'd dreamt about in the few hours of restless sleep he'd managed to steal.

"Get a pillow for Ema."

"Huh?"

"I want to talk to them both," he explained, looking at Ema who stirred again. "She needs something to rest her head."

Raoul was already walking towards a nurse and Klavier watched as the young flustered woman led the red-head into a room. After a minute, he re-emerged holding a pillow and what looked like a blanket. When Klavier gently lifted Ema off him and stood up, Raoul popped the pillow under her head, and the prosecutor watched her for any sign of awakening while the other Gavinner draped the blanket over her huddled body.

"Stay with her," Klavier said unnecessarily before turning away to open the door but Raoul grabbed his arm suddenly, stopping him.

"Hang on one minute," he said, drawing the prosecutor back. He looked around as if to make sure nobody was within earshot, his expression grave. "You know we've got an appointment in two hours. This is just what Rainsford wants, Klavier."

The prosecutor turned cold, his eyes dropping to his wristwatch, and he cursed aloud. _How could he have forgotten something so important?_ How could he have allowed his mind to be so thoroughly distracted that he'd forgotten today was the day he had looked towards for so many weeks? For Tessa's situation to coincide with the execution was horrendous, the worst possible timing—

Klavier's eyes widened as he looked first at the door to Tessa's room then at Raoul who nodded grimly, seeing the realisation in Klavier's eyes.

"Yeah. He wants us to get so caught up in our problems that we'll postpone his execution."

"That is not happening!" Klavier snapped, enraged. "He will die today, even if it means having to tighten the noose around his neck myself!"

"I thought you might say that," Raoul said with a nod. "Seren's makin' the preparations."

Klavier looked at him sharply as another fear shot through him. "Is Simon alright?"

Raoul arched an eyebrow. "Lowes? Yeah, he's fine. Seren's had him moved again — I figured he wasn't safe. The Fey woman arrived an hour ago but she channelled Sanders somewhere along the way."

"You mean it is Gale who is—?" Klavier said, startled.

"Yeah."

"Where is she?"

"I had Seren move her with Lowes," Raoul said with a flick of the hand. "It was troublesome but it got done."

"Good," Klavier said, nodding absentmindedly. "How is the security on the—"

"It would take an army to get through to them," Raoul interrupted dismissively. "Leave the details to me. I know what I'm doing."

"And David?"

"He's securely tucked away," the red-head answered, smirking genuinely for the first time. "Don't worry. Nobody saw him."

Klavier nodded, racking over the details in his mind to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything but then Raoul jabbed him, gesturing at the door lazily.

"Just go do what you need to," he said seriously. "Leave the rest to me."

The prosecutor hesitated for the briefest of moments but realised that he could trust Raoul to organise everything perfectly — the man was tenaciously meticulous. So, nodding appreciatively, he threw one last glance at Ema who was now being watched over by the Gavinners bassist, and pushed open the door to the room.

Either they had known Klavier was about to enter or they were having a quiet moment: Daryan was holding Tessa's hand to his lips, leaning into her from his seat and she was running her fingers over the back of his other hand. At the sound of his footsteps, they turned to look at him and Klavier's insides tensed as he closed the door behind him. He threw a glance at Daryan first, wincing at the bloodshot eyes fixed on him, and then directed a smile at Tessa who returned it with one of her own.

"_Guten Morgen_," he said, habit making him forget that this was probably not the time to be throwing his German around.

Tessa didn't seem to mind. "And to you," she said quietly as he came to stand by the bed.

Klavier didn't answer straight away: her limp, blond hair was spread around her messily, her pale skin was ashen and her eyes were dull and tired. Then, for some reason, his eyes dragged themselves to his friend's face, tanned, framed by black hair and beset with penetratingly silver eyes. Klavier smiled slightly at the stark contrast between the two.

_Like the light to his darkness._

"I think that is the first time someone has answered my greeting directly," Klavier said, looking back at her. "I am impressed."

"T-Thank you…" She stopped, taking a deep breath and her eyes flickered as if she were in pain. "…for b-bringing Daryan to me."

"You are embarrassing me, Tessa," he murmured, looking down at her hand. "There is nothing to thank me for…" He looked across her to Daryan, meeting his friend's gaze directly and holding it for what seemed like the first time that night. "I owe you both several apologies."

"P-Please don't—" another pause, another shiver "—d-don't apologise for anything," Tessa started but Daryan was quick to interrupt.

"Let him," he said shortly and Klavier knew he was trying to hold himself together despite the very clear way Tessa was crumbling before her illness. "It's not everyday you get an apology from the hotshot."

"Daryan," she chided, lightly slapping his hand. He grinned.

"He is right," Klavier said softly. "I—"

"There's nothing to apologise for," Tessa said, more firmly this time while putting a hand over his. "I'm just glad… you… f-finally know."

Klavier's eyes lowered to her hand and he covered it with his own. He flinched inwardly at how cold her skin was.

"So am I," he said with a smile, though his heart was twisting painfully inside. He turned a glare on Daryan. "No thanks to you."

The dark-haired man shot him an uncharacteristically sheepish smile. "I was scared she would leave me for you if we met," he joked.

"Daryan!" she hissed, flicking at his shoulder instead. "W-Would you s-s-stop?"

"I have a question," he said with a smile, turning to Tessa, "I do not quite understand why someone as lovely as yourself would settle for this mess—" He gestured at Daryan who snorted. "His lack of charm is positively alarming."

"At least I've got a set of cojones," he scoffed at Klavier, this time ducking Tessa's swipe. "No, hang on a minute, babe! If I remember right, he couldn't even tell Ema he wanted her until Deston decided to play cupid."

"And you, by the sound of it," Klavier said, entirely unfazed by Daryan's mockery. "I must admit Daryan, I could not quite imagine you with hearts and wings… until now, that is."

Daryan and Tessa laughed, shaking their heads but when they looked at each other, Klavier saw the quiet desperation in Daryan's eyes. The way he was looking at Tessa was the way a dying man looked on life, seeing all the love and joy and opportunities he was leaving behind, lamenting on all the things he had always wanted and knew he could never have.

He saw the way Daryan entwined his fingers through hers and stared at them as if this joining of their hands meant something more to him. The omnipresent icicles of his eyes had melted into pools of silver that shone unnaturally bright and he was barely blinking as if he was afraid that the next time he did so, she would no longer be there. The restlessness, the fear… the sheer _hopelessness_ of it all flooded the air around them with its sickening promise.

And Klavier could do nothing for them.

"I am afraid I have to leave you," Klavier said softly, partly because he could not longer stand it. "I have an appointment that cannot be postponed."

Daryan looked at him sharply and his eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Rainsford," he guessed.

Klavier nodded. "It is… time."

"After what the son of a bitch has done—" Daryan snarled and shuddered, his head dropping between his shoulders and they knew he was trying to maintain control. Klavier glanced at Tessa who saw the question in his gaze and shook her head.

_He doesn't know_, her eyes said.

"Raina…"

Klavier might have been surprised that Daryan had said her name but the rage in his voice told him that somehow, somewhere along the way, somebody had told him about Rafael and what he had done. He didn't know why that didn't surprise him — he supposed it made sense that the others, knowing the truth, had kept Daryan in the loop.

Daryan's body shook again and he looked at Klavier with such menace there was no doubt in the prosecutor's mind that if he could, if Rafael had been right there in the same room, Daryan would have killed him with his bare hands.

"Make him pay."

Klavier realised that his wife's impending death had given Daryan a deeper understanding of Deston's pain. It occurred to him that the irony of the moment was lost on Daryan who still had no idea that Tessa was another would-be victim of Rafael's crusade.

_If he knew…_

Uncertainty gripped him. Was it wise to keep the truth from Daryan? If something were to happen to Tessa… He looked at her and saw the _no! _in her eyes and knew that she could see him faltering. Klavier knew that her opinion mattered but she loved Daryan and she would do anything to save him as much pain as she could. What if she was gone? The truth could not be hidden from him. Indeed, Klavier didn't know how he hadn't already found out from the doctor.

_Should I tell him? _he though as he looked into her eyes.

_Please don't tell him, _they pleaded. _Please, please don't tell him._

He looked back at Daryan who was staring at Tessa with a frown. Even if he told him, Klavier reasoned, what could Daryan do with this knowledge? It would accomplish nothing more than adding another drop to his already overflowing cup of emotion.

And so, for once, Klavier decided against that which he believed every human was owed: the truth.

"I will," Klavier said simply, his eyes sliding from Daryan to Tessa. "I will."

* * *

Klavier was on his own when he reached the highly secured interrogation room. The two guards outside nodded at him in acknowledgement as one of them entered the code, allowing the door to swing open and he walked through it, ignoring the beep that signalled its closure. With deeper strength, he walked down the short hallway to another door that hung slightly open but just as he reached out to push it, he heard Gale's voice and faltered, momentarily shocked. He'd forgotten that Maya Fey had already channelled her.

"This is madness," she was saying and the tone of her voice made Klavier hesitate.

"There isn't anything you can do," Simon said quietly. "I can."

"Are sure it's him?" She sounded agitated. "Absolutely certain?"

"Yeah." Simon paused and when he spoke again, Klavier's frown deepened. "David checked."

"Damn it," she hissed.

Klavier distaste of eavesdropping battled with his need to know more about their conversation.

"We can't tell him," Simon said. "It would destroy him."

_Who are they talking about?_

"He's going to find out sooner or later," Gale said and her voice sounded muffled, as if she had her mouth covered. "It's… I can't believe it! How did this _happen_?"

"Rafael got to her," Simon said, his voice now sad. "Just like he gets to everybody."

"He needs to know!" Gale burst out and Klavier heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor as if someone had suddenly stood up. "This isn't right. This isn't _fair_!"

"Let it run its course, Gale," he said so quietly that Klavier had to lean in to listen. "There's enough going on without throwing a spanner in the works."

"But—"

"Gale…" There was another pause as if Simon had thought better of chastising her. "Leave it to us," he said in a comforting voice. "David and I will handle this."

There was a lengthy silence in which Klavier's tension became more and more aware to him — his body was a mass of tight knots and his mind was whirring, thinking a hundred different thoughts in a thousand different tunes. Who were they talking about? It couldn't be him, and nobody he knew, because their conversation didn't seem to pertain to anybody's situation that he knew of. It made no sense. And yet, Simon's comment about there being 'enough going on' made him deduce that it could only refer to the current situation with Rafael in which case…

His second thought was more alarming: what was so important that both David and Simon had been able to set aside their enmity to work together? What were they taking care of? Who was this woman to them and whose heart were they trying to protect?

His third thought was it could wait. Simon was right, there _was_ a lot going on and the truth was, aside from the immorality of hanging around outside a door eavesdropping on a conversation, his best friend's wife was dying in hospital and he would see Rafael hang for it.

Today. Without fail.

For murdering Gale and leaving Lana motherless, and Simon heartbroken. For turning to Kristoph afterwards and trying to forge an alliance with him. For brutally ending Raina's life and destroying Deston's dreams and ambitions. For preying on their love for one another and trying to kill Tessa to make Daryan suffer and buy himself more time. For his attempts on Ema's life and trying to snatch his very reason for being.

For all of this, he would make Rafael suffer. He would watch Rafael's body burn with an innate fire, more blistering and torturous than the death that would claim him.

Today, they would all win. And he would lose.

With the cloud of this reminder over his head, Klavier pushed open the door and revealed himself. Gale was wrapped comfortingly in Simon's arms who was running a hand through her hair soothingly. They both turned to look at Klavier and had he not drowned himself in his need for revenge, he might have asked them what they'd been talking about and demand to know the truth behind their words.

But a tempest had begun to rage inside, its lightning striking the core of him over and over, and he knew that he — they — would need to sate their need for justice… for retribution.

"I am glad you are safe," he said, approaching Simon who nodded in greeting. His eyes slid to the woman by his side. "And I am thankful that you are here."

"We heard what happened," Gale said softly, untangling herself from Simon and looking into his eyes. "How's your friend?"

The lightning struck just a little harder this time and a fire lit inside of him. "She is alive." He looked away. "For now."

"I'm sorry."

Klavier didn't look at her, not trusting himself to stare her in the eye — somehow he felt wrong to be so preoccupied by thoughts that pulled him in all these directions. He knew he should focus on one thing: the execution, yet he couldn't summon the willpower nor the mental strength to do so. His mind's eye kept seeing flashes of images; Raina, brutally murdered, Simon's hollow eyes, Deston's emptiness, Tessa slowly succumbing to death, Daryan's haunted look, Ema's—

"Klavier."

Gale's gentle touch pulled him back to the cell, where she stood before him, her endless eyes boring into his searchingly. He looked down at her and though he was several inches taller than her, it was quite like looking down at his mother — no matter how tall he grew, in his eyes, she would always tower above him.

"I know what you're going through," she said quietly, stepping around him so that he was directly facing her. "I know how difficult this is."

If it had been anyone else, his reply would have been scathing and hot; how could anyone understand unless they were directly in his situation? And the only ones who could claim that undesirable place were Deston and Daryan.

Yet, before Gale, the woman who had sacrificed her love, her life, for the sake of her child and the two men she had loved, he knew he could not make such a protest. If anyone understood, it was her and if anyone knew what he felt, it was her. She had pulled him back from the brink of death with all the reassurances he'd needed to hear and none of the scorn he'd feared. Yes, her knowledge of his circumstances hadn't been mystical but the way she had pierced him with her eyes and read his soul had been something he'd never seen and could never comprehend — but it was something he would never underestimate nor disrespect.

So he remained silent.

"I know," she repeated, lifting a hand to his face and touching it tenderly. "But this is what Rafael wants."

Klavier and Simon stiffened simultaneously.

"This is what he does," Gale continued, her expression turning dark. "He ruins you from the inside, turns your feelings against you and moulds them into a bomb he knows will explode the moment he comes into sight." She stepped back, her eyes taking on a distant look. "And that's exactly when he needs you to make the mistake — in front of his eyes where he can take advantage of it."

The fire inside him was building with every word that she said because he knew she was right and because he'd been falling into the trap and because he knew she was reliving the agony she had had to endure to make certain she didn't. Simon moved to her side then and when Klavier looked at him, he saw his own anger reflected in his black eyes: it was rage borne of her ability to speak with such a deep insight into Rafael's mind because it was a sign of her experience with his games, a reminder of what she had suffered.

Klavier watched as Simon embraced her again. Gale blinked before looking up at him, a love in her eyes that Klavier was only just beginning to know himself. It had been the foundation of her life and it was the one thing that, Klavier began to realise, people like him died for. It had been the thing that anchored Deston and Simon to life… and when it sank, so did they.

Just as Daryan was. Just as he almost had.

"You are right," Klavier said in a voice hardened by fervour and fortitude. "I will make no mistakes. Today…" he raised his eyes to Simon, "we will be victorious."

"I trust you," Simon said in a tense voice.

The prosecutor knew he meant it but there was hint of cynicism behind it that Simon could not be blamed for. Countless years spent on the run from Rafael had, no doubt, made it difficult for him to believe that the man could be brought down so simply but Klavier intended on making sure that they all witnessed it, to see one of the shadows that plagued them banished.

"Your friend was looking for you," Gale said suddenly.

"Deston," Simon added.

Klavier looked at him sharply. "Deston was here?"

_How could he have managed to get a cocoon so quickly? He can't. Which means… _

Klavier's heart sank again, knowing that he would receive his answer shortly. Though waiting and wondering was painful, for situations such as this, knowing that one's hope was to be crushed soon, there was always the wish the answer had come just a little bit later so they wouldn't have to face the heartbreaking truth…

"Yeah. I don't think it was urgent. He went off to bring everyone here."

Before Klavier could say — or think — anything, he was interrupted. Raoul and Ema swept through the door, both of them looking thoroughly harassed, and Ema immediately marched to Klavier's side, throwing Raoul a scowl who rolled his eyes.

"Your chick is a tough nut to crack, Gavin."

Ema didn't give Klavier a chance to respond. "And your personality is split so many ways you probably go alone for group therapy!" she snapped.

Despite his dark anticipation, Klavier felt his mouth begin to curve at the corners in a dry smile: it occurred to him that Raoul had probably riled her up on purpose so that, in her anger, she would be given a reprieve from the excruciating waiting game.

"What has happened?" he asked Raoul.

"I told her she should probably go home and get changed—"

"YOU TOLD ME I LOOKED SHABBY!"

Raoul rolled his eyes again. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise shabby was an unacceptable word for the _delicate_ ears of a lady."

She bristled. "You're arrogant, selfish, opinionated, _belligerent_—"

"And that's enough of his good points."

They whipped around towards the voice as Seren entered, closely followed by Deston—

—who was smirking.

The calm was so intense that Klavier certain he could hear every single heartbeat that pounded in the room. The smile on Deston's face was so alien, so odd, that Klavier's mind wasn't registering it so he stared blankly at his friend, wishing his voice would work so he could scream at him, demand that he answer their questions immediately…

With each moment the silence stretched, so did his smile.

And then he was laughing, punching the air triumphantly and they all knew what it meant.

_He'd got a cocoon. Tessa was going to live._

For a split moment, they held their breath as if they all expected to wake up from a dream or for someone to tell them Deston had lost his mind and he didn't know anything but then Klavier saw the beaming smile on Seren's face and he knew it was true.

Deston had done it. Somehow, he'd done it.

Tessa was going to live.

And then the room exploded.

"_Oh my God! Oh my God! Deston!"_

Ema's cries of laughter and delight mingled with theirs, her feminine shrieks at stark contrast with the Gavinner's masculine laughs. Klavier felt his heart swell with happiness for Daryan's salvation — because if Tessa was cured of Incuritis, he was saved too — and for Ema's happiness, who had thrown herself around Deston's neck now and was laughing as loud as she ever had.

_In fact_, Klavier thought with a widening grin as he walked up to his friend, _I've_ _never heard her laugh like this before_.

She was hugging him so tightly that Klavier was sure if Deston hadn't been Deston, she would have been arrested for murder by strangulation.

"_Youdidityoudidit! You fop! YOU DID IT!"_

They laughed uproariously as Deston whirled her around, entirely caught up in her cries and set her down, smiling into her face as she continued to cry and jump with joy.

And then he turned to Klavier who suddenly felt something inside of him explode.

"_Du bist ein Genie!"_ he roared, pulling the drummer into a hug and clapping him hard on the back.

"I really am," Deston grinned, pulling back and looking around him. His triumph was such that Klavier might have worried he would split his face with that smile, crack a rib with that laugh or simply _die _of the happiness he was exuding.

The laughter was spreading heavily among them and Klavier saw Seren, who was standing closest to her, lean down to whisper something in Ema's ear. She looked at Raoul which drew Klavier's attention to him, along with everyone else's and the laughter receded somewhat though their grins were still lighting up the room. The red-head was staring at them all with a wide smirk, his arms crossed and his feet planted firmly apart.

"I don't know what you're all giving me that hopeful look for," he scoffed. "I ain't gonna touch the bastard."

"Scrap everything I said before," Ema said, scowling deeply. "You have just one fault."

"And what might that be?" Seren asked in amusement, looking at Raoul as he spoke.

"He. Is. _Insufferable_."

Klavier laughed. "It is in the nature of an aristocrat to be insufferable, _liebling,_" he said, pulling her closer and wrapping his arm around her waist.

"He's a what now?" Ema asked, startled, and Klavier leaned back to look down at her, wondering if she really didn't know of Raoul's ancestry.

"He's Italian aristocracy," Deston said, moving forward and grinning at Raoul whose mouth was twitching quite violently. "_Marchese di Lerova._ That's why he won't touch me. I'm not of _noble blood_."

There was a silence in which Klavier almost laughed at the shock on Ema's face: her eyes bugged out as she turned to the red-head she almost always argued with. He glanced at her in amusement as if to say _nothing-to-say-now? _which resulted in her narrowing her eyes and growling. The moment stretched a little longer in which Klavier kissed the top of her head and looked from Seren who looked infinitely happy, to Deston who was still grinning at Raoul and waiting for the inevitable that only the Gavinners were prepared for.

The red-head shrugged and dawdled forward leisurely, holding a hand out to Deston in an off-hand manner. "Whatever. Well done."

Deston's mouth twitched as they clapped into a handshake and stared at each other for a moment. Then, Raoul and Deston started laughing like madmen and pulled each other into a hug, causing Ema to jump. Klavier and Seren simply joined in, their heads thrown back as they laughed out all of their relief and released all their fear and gratefulness for having their prayers answered.

"_Bastardo_!" Raoul hooted over the ruckus, "I knew you'd do it!"

Klavier looked down when he felt Ema's body shaking and saw her laughing into her hands, her eyes shining. She was watching Raoul who had just pushed Deston away and was smirking again, talking swiftly in Italian to him.

How odd it felt to be laughing now when just an hour earlier, he had felt his world begin to crash around him. Already, it felt like a lifetime ago and Klavier was glad because it was a memory he wanted to bury as deep as he could. The feeling of utter loss and emptiness that had haunted him seemed alien to him now that he could feel the bliss and relief flood him, like a straining dam that had finally given way under the inevitable happiness.

And there was just one thought that snaked its way to that darker, more vengeful part of him: _Rafael had not succeeded._

"Would you shut up?" Ema snapped, bringing Klavier's attention back to everyone in the room. "You're ruining the moment."

Raoul turned on her with a mischievous glint that had Klavier grinning. "I would be careful, if I were you Ema," the prosecutor said, recognising the expression on his friend's face. "He has that look that says—"

"What, babe," Raoul smirked, interrupting him. "Aren't you gonna gimme a hug?"

"She ain't gonna 'gimme' you nothin'," Klavier said, mimicking his friend and pulling Ema behind him. "Unless you wish to die a most painful death, I advise you to remain quiet."

"He's right," Seren said, cutting across Raoul's retort. "Let's focus on what needs to be done. There's plenty of time for celebrating later."

"Does Daryan know?" Klavier asked, turning to Deston whose smile became more tame.

"Hell yeah," he chuckled. "The doctor says there's a good chance that not only will it cure her of the damn illness, she'll fight off the poison easy." His attention seemed to divert from Klavier suddenly as he looked at some point over Klavier's shoulder. "So guys. How about we get this show on the road?"

Everyone followed his gaze to the silent couple who, until now, had remained unnoticed. Much to Klavier's surprise and amusement, they had seated themselves at the table, Simon's arm draped around Gale, and both were watching them all with identical, indulgent smiles. Upon Deston's question, Simon looked at Gale.

"I suddenly feel very old," he said.

"You are old," Gale said chirpily, patting Simon's cheek.

"Well, now I _know_ you love me," Simon said, flashing a smile at her.

Gale laughed. "Of course. Only a woman truly in love would touch an old, decrepit man like this," she said cheekily, tapping Simon's nose.

Ema moved suddenly which caught Klavier's attention: she moved out from behind him and when he looked at her, she was staring at Gale with recognition. It didn't take him long to realise what was sweeping through her mind, given their conversation a few hours ago (had it really only been that long?) and when he turned to see Gale's reaction, Klavier wasn't surprised to see the woman tilting her head at Ema, an engaging smile on her face.

Simon moved, as if he was about to say something, but then he settled back in his seat, unwinding his arm from around her. Gale slowly rose to her feet just as Ema moved towards her. Total silence reigned as everyone watched, curious and surprised except for Klavier who knew the reason for the look of reverence and thankfulness on Ema's face.

It moved something inside him that Ema's feelings for him were strong enough to generate such deep gratitude to a complete stranger.

Ema's eyes raked Gale's body which, for once, was clad in normal clothing. He thought he saw a glimmer of disbelief — no doubt the science in her rejected the idea that the woman before her was dead — but then it was gone. Her head tilted to the side to mirror Gale, and she met her gaze unflinchingly as if she was trying to gauge something.

Unexpectedly, Ema looked at Klavier with an unfathomable look, that made his heart skip a beat. She held his gaze for a short moment before turning back to Gale, a gentle smile flowering on her lips and deep appreciation in her eyes.

"You're welcome," Gale said softly.

Then the two women surprised them all — even Klavier — by moving towards each other into an unexpected hug. Klavier's eyebrows shot up and somewhere behind him, he thought he heard Seren snicker.

"Er… did Ema actually _say_ something?" Deston whispered, now standing next to Klavier who blinked furiously, dumbfounded.

"I'll never understand women," Raoul said loudly, obnoxiously breaking into the meaningful moment. "How do they expect men to understand when _that's _how they communicate?"

"It doesn't really matter how we communicate," Gale said before Ema could answer. "You lack the required apparatus to comprehend."

Klavier and Ema gaped at the unexpected comment but Raoul remained unfazed. "You wanna cut my balls off?" he laughed.

"Ray, mate," Seren groaned. "How many times do I have to tell you _not _ to talk like that in front of ladies?"

Gale's mouth curved into an amused smile. "I believe it would be quite a hunt, searching for those, Mr Adagio," she said, her eyes twinkling. "So, no. I merely referred to the lack of an emotional compartment in the male psyche."

Klavier was about to tell Raoul to shut up but found himself made redundant when he saw the red-head blinking at Gale silently, his lips firmly pressed together as if he couldn't quite grasp what she'd just said. The hush that followed this time was stunned and he knew that all of them were equally shocked: this had to be the first time in his life that Raoul was left speechless by an insult.

_Then again, _Klavier thought, grinning at Gale, _she's no ordinary woman._

"Gale," Simon drawled, breaking the silence with a smirk, "I'm not quite sure how I feel about you searching for some guy's testicles — even if it is to break them."

Gale giggled uncharacteristically which seemed to be all the incentive Raoul needed to react: his mouth lifted into an open grin, his eyes still firmly fixed on Gale's, and then he began to laugh.

"Congratulations!" he hooted in between laughs and nodding approvingly. "You managed to fill me with inertia."

Klavier felt his own lips rise when Ema whipped around to Gale and said "You _have_ to teach me how to do that!"

Gale simply smiled.

"I know you like our arguments, really," Raoul said, winking at Ema.

"Were you born stupid? Or do you just practice hard?"

Klavier glanced at Gale and Simon to see their expressions and found that they were laughing as they watched Raoul and Ema, the latter glaring and the former goading her with his smiles.

"Why don't you like me?" Raoul said in make-believe hurt voice. "What's wrong with me?"

"Gee," Ema said sarcastically, tapping her lips. "Do you want me to do this alphabetically?"

Laughter filled the room again and Klavier suddenly felt a hand on his arm: Gale was standing there, staring up at him. "She's your perfect match."

He glanced at Ema who was still ranting at Raoul and smiled. "Do you think so?"

"Yes. She's the one for you."

And somehow, her words meant more to him than he could explain. On impulse, he drew her into a hug, looking over her shoulder at Simon to see if the man disapproved but he was simply smirking at them both, his expression almost triumphant.

"This is not just because you shut my friend up for the first in his life," Klavier said, pulling back and looking down at her with a smile. "This is simply because I am glad you are here." He looked at Simon. "Both of you. Together."

Simon stood up from his languid position and came to stand by Gale, causing everyone to focus on them.

"Let's put the cherry on this cake," he said, his amused eyes of before now flashing with anticipation.

Klavier took a deep breath and turned around. Ema was looking at him determinedly as if to tell him she was there to stand beside him. He held her eyes for a moment and in her emerald depths, he found something that gave him strength and though he didn't know what it was, he loved her for it. When he turned to the rest of his friends, they looked back at him with serious expressions, except for Deston whose mouth was curling with the slightest hint of satisfaction.

"Where is David?" he asked.

Deston cocked his head back. "In place," he answered with a grin.

"Then…"

Klavier turned back to Simon. There was no doubt a darkness lurked in Simon's heart — watching the death of a loved one was enough to do that to a man but to someone for whom the darkness already existed… He could only guess at the thoughts lying in wait in such a mind.

So when he saw the burning need in Simon's gaze, Klavier didn't question the desire he clearly harboured to see Rafael die, to watch as life fled with every shortening breath.

He felt the same.

_For Gale._

He threw one more looked at Deston and knew that his desire was there too, behind the shuttered eyes.

_For Raina._

And finally, he looked at his partner as she came to his side and slipped her fingers through his. Klavier stared deep into her eyes and raised her hand to his lips as one last fierce thought passed through his mind.

_For Ema._

"Let's get this show on the road."


	34. The First Shadow

Okay, I know it's been a while but since MS is coming to a close I'm going to drag this out as much as I can. I will not apologise!

Um, anyways. I bet you're all thinking, damn this girl's dragging this execution out. This chapter and the next were originally one but given the whopping length (and the next one's not completed yet) I had to split them up. In compensation, you will only have to wait 2 days at most for the next update (unless I get struck by lightning or my laptop becomes a meteor magnet). And this dragged out affair won't be dragged out for very long!

Onions: HA HA! I do believe I've never been called an ass before. You make me laugh. I'm sorry (kind of) that my chapter distracted you from your work... how did the exam go? I'm glad you're still around ;) I love your reviews.

Thank you guys so much for your continued support. I love you all!

* * *

The First Shadow

.'.

Bitter at all, living without faith,

Crowned by shadows, a kingly wraith.

Rejecting life with every hateful breath,

Immortality rages at elusive Death.

.'.

The way the suspended noose swung back and forth was highly reminiscent of a pendulum in a grandfather clock, as thought counting down to that moment for which they had all waited. Utter silence dominated the execution room and in the glass that separated the audience from the platform, lay reflected all their faces, marred with tension, rage and glittering anticipation.

Klavier's fists clenched in his pockets as his eyes ran over the glass and he took in all their reflections: Seren and Raoul were solemn. They had not directly suffered at Rafael's hands except to see what his cruelty had done to their friends. Though, to their loyal minds, that was more than enough to want Rainsford's death. So they stood in wait, their eyes fixed intently on the empty platform awaiting Rafael's arrival.

Behind them stood Gale and Simon. He was holding her still; something that, Klavier realised, was almost as important as breathing to him. He had been watching them both for the past fifteen minutes and though Simon and Gale barely looked at each other, a part of them was always touching. Right now, Simon had an arm around her waist and his eyes were fixed on the swinging noose almost as if he, too, was counting down the minutes until his nightmare ended.

Gale, on the other hand, was staring at him. Her almond, dark eyes were fixed on his face with an obfuscated expression. Klavier couldn't understand it and somehow, he knew he wasn't meant to — just the same way that nobody was meant to understand him and Ema.

His eyes slid to Deston then, who stood beside Seren, a blank expression on his face. Klavier knew that the emptiness was just a mask placed to prevent anyone from seeing the wave of emotions he must be feeling. He might have asked if Deston was okay. But he wasn't foolish and he knew him better than to do that.

So, instead he looked to Raoul's other side where Ema stood almost as stiff except for the fingers that tightened and loosened on her bag strap repetitively. He smiled inwardly, beginning to understand that that bag was more than just a place to put the tools she used to meddle with forensic affairs. She was trying to be nonchalant about facing her attempted murderer but, though Klavier had never himself been in that position, he knew it rankled deep in her.

He was going to take her hand to show his support but suddenly, Raoul tilted his head ever so slightly that, had Klavier not been watching, he would have missed it: the red-head's eyes narrowed as they scrutinised Ema, moving between her nervous fingers and the tension around her mouth. Then, without a word, he turned back to stare ahead and Klavier felt his mouth beginning to twitch when he realised what Raoul was about to do.

"Hey, babe," he drawled in a voice so deep with mischief that Ema turned on him with a more-intense-than-usual scowl. "Seriously, why don't you like me?"

"Ask me when we both have a lot of spare time," she said curtly, turning away from him again. "I'll tell you then."

The mood in the room lightened instantly: Deston glanced backwards at Klavier with a grin and Gale and Simon were watching with amusement as Raoul bumped his shoulder against Ema's playfully.

"Go on," he said with a widening smirk at the glare she threw him. "Say those three little words that would make my day."

"Go. To. Hell."

Klavier saw Deston press a finger to his quivering mouth in a futile attempt at a thoughtful expression.

"You know you don't mean that," Raoul said, turning on her fully and uncrossing his arms.

"Believe me," Ema bit off, avoiding his eyes. "I mean it."

"So, you hooked Seren up with that chick," he continued much to the silent hilarity of their audience. "How about you do the same for me?"

"What happened to being a man?" Ema scoffed. "Forgotten all that swagger you showed me yesterday? Didn't you call Seren a coward for asking me about Mara?"

Raoul tilted his head, his expression admirably solemn. "I changed my mind."

"Good!" Ema scorned. "Does the new one work better?"

Klavier was trying as hard as he could to rub the grin off his face when Deston, clearly unable to entirely control the laughter inside him, let it out as a great big rush of air. Ema had no idea how amusing she was when wound up and though Klavier knew that at this moment in time, Raoul had decided to pick on her to alleviate her tension, the rest of the time he did it simply to get a rise out of her. He watched her glaring fiercely up into Raoul's laughter and a new sort of delight coursing through him at how well she fit in with his friends. Though he'd never thought about it openly, it had always been at the back of his mind what the world would say if they knew where his devotion lay. The apprehension was not for himself of course but for her – they _were_ worlds apart in the eyes of the world but in his heart, she was his equal in every way. She was the other half, the missing puzzle and she fit into his life perfectly.

He would have to thank them all, Klavier thought as he glanced between Deston who was still vainly trying to stifle his laughter, Seren who was watching on with silent amusement and Raoul who was openly laughing in her face now. Klavier would have to thank the drummer for bringing her into his life through trickery, would have to thank the red-head for winding her up simply to ease her tension and he would have to thank Seren for his never-ending kindness and patience with Ema.

But most of all, he would have to thank them for accepting her into their lives as if she had always been there. He would have to thank them for protecting her, for putting their own lives at risk to save hers.

"—someone who can steal my heart!" Raoul exclaimed, making Klavier realise how far he'd slipped into his own thoughts.

"Ha!" Ema waved him off dismissively. "She should steal your kidney instead — she would get more for it."

There were audible titters around the room now and Klavier glanced at Gale who was giggling into her hands and Simon whose face was buried in her shoulder, his body shaking with – what was no doubt – laughter. Deston was leaning against a wall, his face hidden in his arm and even Seren was chuckling, having taken several steps backwards as if he feared Ema's wrath.

Though telling Ema that by responding to Raoul's remarks, she was playing right into his hands seemed a good idea, Klavier didn't because it was distracting her from her nervousness – something he really wanted. Laughter bubbled in his chest when her hands curled into fists and she pointed insolently in the red-head's face as if she wanted to say something but he cut across her first.

"You don't get it, man!" Raoul mock-groaned. "The number of showers I have to take 'cause of her… I should be sendin' her all of my water bills—" he flashed Ema a rakish smile that left nobody in doubt of his meaning "—but she's got no chance of being able to pay them."

Klavier's laughter rose to his throat but his lips remained pressed firmly together in the hope that he would somehow be able to contain it. Like the rest of them, he had a feeling that if he laughed, Ema would kill him – slowly and painfully.

"There are no words for how _disgusting_ you are!" she snapped, stomping her foot. When Raoul glanced down at her legs and then arched an eyebrow, she looked ready to scream.

"There are," he said, tapping her cheek with a finger and laughing when she slapped his hand away, "you just haven't learnt them all yet." When Ema's body began to shake, he leaned back to look at her cheekily. "Want me to teach you?"

"_No!"_ she yelled, jabbing him in the shoulder. "I don't want to hear what kind of _crap_ comes out of that filthy mouth!"

Raoul seemed not to hear her. "Let's see here," he intoned, starting to tick of his fingers. "There's raunchy, randy, hot to trot, horny—"

Ema exploded. "ARGH!"

They couldn't help themselves anymore – everyone erupted into great big roars of laughter and she spun on the spot to Klavier with an almost beseeching look. When she saw his almost doubled over frame, however, her eyes narrowed dangerously and he, unable to control his laughter, waved at her in what was meant to be an apology.

She swept the room with her deadly glare. "I'm glad you're all getting a good laugh out of this!" she said loudly.

The only response she got was another wave of said laughter. Deston was practically supporting his quaking form against the wall, his laughter the loudest while Seren had his head thrown back, chuckling and shaking his head. Behind them, Simon was cracking up almost as loudly as Deston.

"Mr Adagio," Gale said, suddenly standing by Ema's side, and though her voice sounded stern, Klavier saw a glimmer of approval in her cheerful eyes. "You are no gentleman."

Raoul's shrank from her in a mischievous display of horror. "But she wa—!"

"No, no," Gale said, wagging a finger at him.

His mouth clamped shut.

Klavier, Deston and Seren gaped, taken aback that she had managed to silence Raoul for the second time that day. Years of witnessing his motor-mouth had them waiting for some sort of retort but the Italian remained deafeningly quiet.

"Ha ha!" Seren sang, pointing at Raoul. "You've met your match, Adagio!"

"You be quiet," Ema said, glaring first at him then at Klavier and Deston. "You're all as bad as each other!"

Gale chuckled, putting an arm around Ema protectively and then winking at Klavier, making sure the detective didn't see. "Shouldn't you be thrashing your friends for teasing her, Klavier?"

The blond felt his mouth rise when Ema let out a loud "HA!" Then, nodding and trying to wipe his face of mirth, he walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, laughing when she resisted at first.

"Get off me, you glimmerous fop!" she said, sulkily pushing him away.

"Absolutely not," he replied, tightening his hold on her and flashing a grateful smile at Raoul over her head. "I am sorry, Ema," he said into her pouting face.

"Hmph."

Klavier's eyes turned to Deston who came to stand by her, bending down to peer into her face again. "Aw, ickle Em got picked on!" he teased, his face alive with merriment.

"Get out of my face, you…you—!"

"Fop?" he said helpfully.

"AARGH!" Ema buried her face in Klavier's shoulder, grumbling incoherently while he wrapped his arms around her and looked at Deston who was laughing again.

"Achtung! Back off, ja?" Klavier scolded him.

"It's unfair that you all gang up on her," Gale said, turning on Deston with a make-believe look of disparagement.

He grinned. "You look like you'd be fun to wind up, Miss Sanders."

Gale's smile was dazzling. "I invite you to try, Agent Cavatin."

"I wouldn't, if I were you," Simon said with a smile as he approached them and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. Gale looked up at him over her shoulder with an amused smile. "She'll rip you to shreds."

"Is that so?" Seren said, joining them with an intrigued expression.

"I do not doubt it," Klavier said.

"Please rip him to shreds," Ema added, looking at Gale hopefully. "He needs to be taken down a peg or two."

Gale raised an eyebrow and fixed her gaze on Deston who stuffed his hands in his pockets comfortably and flashed her a perfectly confident smile. She stared at him for several long moments in which nobody spoke and though Klavier expected Deston to look away (he probably would have if he'd been faced with that penetrating gaze), their stares remained locked.

When Simon's hand moved from her waist to her shoulder, Klavier felt a frown begin to find its way onto his forehead. Though Gale's smile remained on her face, it no longer reached her eyes – she appeared to be searching his face for something, her gaze probing and intense. The drummer noticed it too because his smile slowly faded and he tilted his head to the side as he began his own examination of her inscrutable countenance.

And then, she turned her attention to Raoul who was frowning and Seren whose own serious expression made it obvious he'd noticed the shift in the atmosphere. Their confusion was just as blatant as Klavier's when she finally turned to him; his back straightened and he looked at Simon, alarmed by the gravity in their identical gazes.

"What is it?" Klavier asked.

"You have to prepare yourselves," Gale said in a serious voice looking around at them all again.

"Rafael won't go down without a fight," Simon said darkly.

"We're ready for him," Seren reassured them. "We have all of the security we could need."

But Gale was shaking her head. "I'm not talking about an escape. He's got far too much _dignity _than to try that now. He's resigned to his fate, I think." She paused and for the first time, Klavier saw jaw clench and she took a deep breath as if to stabilise her emotions. "He's going to try and get to each and every one of you in some way." She glanced back at Seren and Raoul. "Don't make the mistake of assuming that, just because you don't know him, he won't know you."

Ema stirred in Klavier's grasp and he glanced down at her: her gaze was fixed firmly on Deston's expression which appeared to have frozen. Understanding her concern, and though feeling the same, Klavier simply rubbed her arm comfortingly.

Seren nodded. "Thank you."

"He's going to play games with all of us," Simon said darkly.

Klavier smiled grimly. "We have a game of our own to play, ja?" He looked at Deston. "Something he will not expect."

"Speaking of…" Raoul said and walked to another door at the back of the room. He knocked his finger against it a few times and turned back to all of them. "Me and Seren contacted Drake Sanders and Mrs Rainsford – his wife – as well as his parents—"

"Drake is here?" Gale blurted out, looking alarmed for the first time.

"He didn't want to be here for the execution," Seren said, stepping forward. "None of them did."

"But," Raoul continued when there was a responding knock from the other side, "there was someone who wanted to see this. We figured he deserved to have his wish granted."

Klavier was frowning at his friend, wondering who they were talking about but then the red-head grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open. Just as he did so, there was a sharp intake of breath from Simon as if he'd guessed who Raoul was talking about. Before the prosecutor could ask, a tall man entered, his presence intense and exuding such raw power that it seemed barely contained by the room.

"_Kade!"_

Klavier's head whipped around on Gale but she had already got free of Simon and thrown herself at Kade Richards who accepted her greeting without a word or smile. Instead, he silently enveloped her frame in his arms and hugged her back. The prosecutor couldn't contain his surprise at this display of affection – nowhere since he'd began to investigate her case had Klavier read or heard anything to indicate Gale's friendship with Kade was so strong.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" Gale cried, looking up into his face.

He looked back, his face emotionless and dark but the way his eyes were keenly fixed on hers spoke volumes. He raised one large hand to touch her face and Klavier frowned at the loving gesture. Surely this man couldn't be in love with her as well… could he?

He suddenly swept her into a fierce hug, as if his mind had only just accepted she was really there. Klavier glanced at Ema in surprise and she was watching them both with a bemused expression, clearly just as confused as he was. Almost afraid to do so, he lifted his eyes to Simon and felt his heart sink: the Latino was staring at the pair with a dark look in his eyes.

"I will never forgive you."

The deep voice caught Klavier by surprise and he saw Kade pull back to look at Gale, his eyes lowered to hers in a tortured expression but instead of looking guilty, she simply smiled and shook her head.

"I know, Kade," she said wryly. "You told me enough times."

He didn't reply. His eyes lingered on her face for a long, painful moment and then he slowly turned to Simon with an expectant look.

The silence deepened.

They stared at each other, every passing second like another drop of darkness to the menace in Simon's eyes. Threat permeated the air, thickening it dangerously and they all remained frozen as if one word would spark the fire of violence. Klavier threw Ema a sideways glance when her fingers subconsciously rose to grasp his and he squeezed them while turning back to Raoul who was looking alarmed. His shrewd eyes flickered back and forth between the two men as if trying to gauge the risk of a fight but just as he took a step forward, Gale held a hand up to Simon, turning back to him with an anxious look.

"Simon—"

"Why?" Simon said, his eyes fixed on Kade. His voice, though quiet, was shaking with silent fury and his hands had curled into fists as if it was all he could do to keep a hold of himself.

"Simon, he—"

"Gale," Kade said calmly. "Let him talk."

"Now isn't the time for this," Gale insisted, her eyes fixed on Simon. "Please."

"You let her walk into that trap," Simon hissed, stepping forward. "You killed her!"

"Simon—"

"Why?" he snarled. "How could you betray my trust like that?"

"He didn't—"

"Gale," Kade interrupted. "You haven't told him?"

Klavier saw a familiar flicker of fear appear in her eyes when she turned on Kade with a pleading expression and the first signs of emotion broke across his features – he was staring at her incredulously, almost as if chastising her for something.

"No," Gale said softly and biting her lip. "Not yet."

"Oh great," Simon said sarcastically. "He knows the great secret too." His dark eyes settled on Gale. "Does everyone know _except_ me?"

The prosecutor felt his heart sink when he understood what Kade and Gale were talking about. He knew they couldn't tell Simon about Lana now – today was about Rafael's execution and if Gale was right, they would need all of their emotional barriers intact for what lay ahead.

_Let it go, Simon, _Klavier willed the man silently.

"Simon, please," Gale entreated. "I promise I'll tell you as soon as this is done. Please, just focus on this now."

Instead of the comfort her words were meant to induce, they spurred on his rage and though the other Gavinners had been waiting to thwart any sudden movements from Simon, only Klavier had seen how fast he could be: the tension in his body erupted and he moved almost at the same time that Simon did. The Latino slammed into Kade with brutal force that knocked them both to the ground and they had barely connected with the floor before Simon raised one large fist to strike Kade. Flinging himself forward, Klavier's hand shot out to grab Simon's arm.

And then everything was warnings and shouts and flurry of activity as the others converged to help Klavier control him; Simon was cursing loudly, his murderous eyes still fixed on Kade who was rising to his feet and looking on quietly.

"_You bastard!"_ Simon screamed, fighting to free himself from their grasp. "_You let her die!"_

"Hey!" Klavier said loudly, pushing at Simon's shoulder. "Stop it."

But his words fell on deaf ears. Klavier threw a glance at Raoul when his arm wrapped around Simon's chest like a steel band yet he only fought harder to free himself of their grip. He was out of control, as if a dormant monster inside of him had been unleashed and would not retreat until blood was drawn.

"_I was right there the whole time! Why didn't you tell me?" _Simon's voice thickened with fury and disbelief and amid the efforts it took to restrain him, Klavier recognised the naked horror in Simon's eyes.

The truth hadn't sunk in yet — he was still struggling to accept the immensity of Gale's actions and the very real and ignorant part he'd played in the trap she'd set. Simon hadn't embraced her sacrifice. He'd been simply taking each day as it came but now that he was face to face with Kade, the reality had crashed around him again.

Klavier looked at Gale who had been unusually silent through the exchange and it was then that he saw the immense guilt in her face, the heartbreak in her eyes. She was staring at Simon, her gaze roving his wild expression and just as Klavier thought the man would break free of their grasp, she stepped in front of them, right in Simon's line of sight.

And though she didn't say a word, he stilled.

"Let go of him," she ordered quietly, her eyes finding Simon's and locking them with hers.

Klavier immediately let go when he saw the haunted expression trickle into Simon's stricken face. He took a step back, catching Raoul's eye and nodding at him to do the same. Just as he moved away, he felt Ema slipping her hand into his again and when he looked at her, she was watching Simon with a sad expression. Understanding, Klavier raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, turning back to the scene before him and taking a ragged breath.

"I'm sorry," Gale murmured, reaching out to touch Simon's face.

The broken look in his eyes was the only answer. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he allowed himself to be drawn in, his face disappearing into the curve of her shoulder. When she had fully enveloped him into the confines of her embrace, his trembling arms moved around her waist and then his body was shaking, wracked with gut-wrenching sobs.

"Simon…" Gale whispered, her voice choked with tears. "Please, don't cry…"

But then she was crying too, her frame shaking almost as strongly as his. She clung to him as she wept, barely audible words and cries and apologies falling from her lips. Her hands sunk into his hair and she held him close, touching and kissing every part of him she could find, desperation in her every move.

The sight was heart-rending. Klavier wanted to help them, wanted to do and say something that would lessen their pain but he knew nothing could stem the years of suppressed grief and longing they had endured. This was what they had long been deprived of and though he knew this was the release they had needed, the prosecutor felt no satisfaction and no relief.

Unable to watch any longer, he turned his gaze to Kade who had turned his back on them, to Seren and Raoul who'd averted their eyes and at Deston who was rubbing his eyes tiredly. And, just as he was about to look at her, he heard Ema sniff: Klavier felt the knot in his stomach tighten when he saw the shimmer of her eyes as she stared at Gale and Simon. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around her, and she pressed her face into his chest as if to banish the distressing sight from her eyes.

"Shh…" Klavier hushed, dropping a kiss on her temple but he knew it was no use. Even as he rested his head against hers and looked at Simon, he knew the image would be branded into his mind forever.

They needed time. Klavier knew it would take a while for them to recover – all of them. So when he looked at Seren and spoke, it was no surprise to any who heard and there was no protest from any of them.

"Push it forward to 10."

.'.

Half an hour later, Klavier and Ema were waiting for time to pass as Simon and Gale gathered themselves when Raoul entered unexpectedly. His expression businesslike and a harassed look on his face, the Italian looked ready to snap but then he saw Ema's silent form at the window. He paused, looking at Klavier questioningly who shook his head and sighed, standing up from the chair he'd been lounging in.

"What is it?"

Raoul rolled his eyes. "Rainsford wants to see you."

Klavier raised an eyebrow. "Rafael?"

The red-head shook his head and his mouth curled in distaste. "Wrong Rainsford."

"David?" Klavier said, surprised. "Why?"

"I don't know," Raoul answered. "He's being a pain in the ass about it. I told him we can't move him in case someone sees him but he insists. You're gonna have to go to him."

"Alright," Klavier said, nodding and running a hand through his hair.

He threw a glance at Ema who was watching them both with a frown – she had been exceedingly quiet for the last half an hour and now that she was showing signs of joining the conversation he was somewhat relieved.

"Ema, you should stay with Raoul. I will only be a moment."

"I want to come with you," she said.

"With me?" Klavier echoed.

"I don't know that's a good idea," Raoul started but her eyes flashed.

"I don't care what you think, fireball," she snapped. "I'm going with Klavier."

"Ema," Klavier said gently. "I may require some privacy with David. I really think you should stay with Raoul."

Though her lips pursed at having her request denied, Ema didn't argue. Her eyes turned to Raoul and then she groaned at the promise of more offensive chatter in his smile.

Klavier laughed. "Behave yourself, ja?" he instructed his friend. "I will not allow you to tease _mein_—"

"Whatever, Gavin," he said, waving him off. "Tell someone who cares."

The prosecutor's lips twitched, knowing that Raoul fully intended on cheering Ema up in his own special way. Having seen the effectiveness of his tactics he turned to the detective who was glaring at them both fiercely. "I will try to make this as short as possible," he promised.

"I want Deston," she announced with an air of desperation.

Klavier's eyes twinkled. "What was that?"

"I want Deston," she repeated stubbornly, not recognising the trap she'd fallen into.

"Huh," Raoul smirked, turning to look at Klavier. "You shouldn't be sayin' stuff like that in front of your boyfriend, especially given your history with the dude."

"W-What?" Ema spluttered, her eyes widening. "That's not what I—"

"I cannot say that does not sting, Fräulein," Klavier said with a straight face, his insides cracking with laughter at the horrified look on her bemused face. "But I am well aware of the female force and their penchant for multiple boyfriends. As long as I remain number one, I am willing to—"

"SHUT UP!" she exploded, stomping her foot. "YOU'RE A PAIR OF DIRTY-MINDED FREAKS WHO NEED TO HAVE THEIR—"

Her shouting was drowned out by their howls of laughter. Klavier drew her in for a hug and dropped a kiss on her cheek. "Forgive us," he chuckled into her pouting face. "You are far too delightful to tease for your own good, Ema."

"Undisciplined fops."

He laughed again, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and regarded her silently. In their hurry, neither of them had dressed properly and the night's activities had left them both unkempt. Seeing the remaining bruises on her milky skin reminded him of the suffering she'd had to endure – she should have been resting in bed, not running about the way she had and Klavier made a promise to himself: as soon as the day was done, Ema would rest. Even if it meant dragging her out of the country for a while.

_In fact, _he thought, an idea forming in his mind, _I think that is exactly what she needs._

"You take care of yourself," he instructed her before dropping his mouth to hers in a soft, lingering kiss. He half-expected her to pull away from him but she only sighed against his lips and nodded. Her eyes smiled even as her mouth twisted in a light scowl and she pushed at him.

"Get out of here."

Klavier winked at her from the door but she was already giving Raoul all the daggers she could and he exited, knowing his friend would keep her adequately preoccupied.

The walk to David's room was relatively short and on reaching it and opening the door, he saw the younger Rainsford on the phone.

"—tell you over and over, do I?" he was saying harshly.

Klavier shut the door behind him audibly and David spun around, his face contorted into fury and then, barking a few more orders, he slammed his phone shut.

"Thanks for coming," David said briskly, running a hand through his hair.

"What is the matter?" Klavier asked, frowning at the unsettled expression on the other's face. "Has nobody told you—?"

"They have," David said impatiently. "And that got me thinking – Lana isn't safe. We need to do something about her."

Klavier's eyebrows shot up as a tremor of surprise went through him. "You know about Lana?"

"Yeah. Gale told me." Klavier was taken aback by how smoothly the information flowed from him – as if he were relaying the weather news. "I know she was careful but I don't feel right leaving her out there like that. You—"

"Wait a moment," Klavier said, shaking his head. "Why did Gale tell you about Lana?"

David paused hesitantly. "She wants me to make sure nothing happens to Simon." He took a deep breath. "So she had to tell me why."

"And _will_ you make sure of that?"

The older man scowled. "What kind of man do you take me for?" he snapped. "Of course I will."

Klavier silently scrutinised the other's expression. Beneath the indignation, he saw something else, something that he knew was there even if he hadn't shown it: envy and sadness. But, even though he knew David had wanted that with Gale, Klavier couldn't doubt his intentions. No matter his ill-temper and unorthodox methods of showing it, David still loved Gale and he would do anything to protect her daughter.

"I apologise," Klavier murmured, inclining a head.

The scathing reply he'd expected never came – David looked forlorn now and a weariness sank into his face that Klavier hadn't seen up until now. It was as if the troubles of his life had finally crashed around him, now, at the very end of this struggle with his brother. He lowered himself into a chair, shaking his head, and a long ragged breath escaped him.

"I don't blame you for asking me that," he said in a hollow voice. "I… He has her in a way that I never did."

Klavier couldn't disagree with that so slipped his hands into his pockets and remained silent.

"I should hate him," he continued, his eyes fixed on the ground. "For… For having what I wanted."

"But you don't?" Klavier guessed

A shake of the head. "He's…" A pause. "He's what she wants. He's treated her better… He could make her laugh when I couldn't. I know what he did towards the end was…" he swallowed painfully, "…but… I know." He looked at Klavier. "I know what it's like to love her."

The ghostly look in David's eyes were alien to Klavier yet he understood it without an explanation or a word – without the mask of arrogance to shield him, David was more wrecked inside than any of them.

"He didn't stand a chance. Not with her working against him. None of us did."

Klavier still said nothing.

"When Rafael found us, he gave Simon a chance to join him," David muttered almost as if he was talking to himself now. "Simon could have told Rafe where to find me…"

"But he didn't."

"No, he didn't. He warned me," David said, his voice dropping in volume. "And when I left, he followed me. He didn't have to but he did." He shook his head as a sharp laugh escaped him. "He's done nothing wrong. How can I hate him? He's… he's my friend."

Klavier hadn't been expecting it but for some reason, he felt not the slightest bit surprised by David's admission. It didn't take long for him to accept the truth behind it – despite initially believing their feelings to be irrevocably turned to hatred, David and Simon shared an intricate history together. Klavier knew how backstabbing and unreliable men were within criminal circles but he'd also seen the intense loyalty they harboured and the value placed on that kind of allegiance. Gale's presence and their conflicting emotions had led only to a blind refusal to see anything beyond the threat they posed to one another. Yet now, when the choices were made and their hatred no longer mattered, the shroud of enmity was being torn to pieces by the one thing they had in common – their love for Gale and their need for revenge.

With his rising respect for David, Klavier settled into a seat opposite him, resting his arms on his legs and leaning forward.

"I don't hate him," David said hoarsely. "I've never hated him."

Klavier nodded.

"I hate myself."

The prosecutor didn't need to ask why – he was sure he knew the answer to that already.

"I hate myself for getting involved with her when I knew what my life was like," David said, his voice deepening with emotion. "He always told me I was wrong. He warned me but I didn't listen. I was selfish."

It wasn't difficult to see where the conversation was going and Klavier was not willing to let David take on another burden. "No," he said, shaking his head and sitting back. "I know that you blame yourself for her death but you are not responsible."

David let out another sharp laugh. "I'm the reason for her death."

"_Nein_," Klavier said firmly. "Your brother is."

David didn't look up.

"Rafael is the reason for everything that has happened to you, to Gale and Simon. He is responsible for the death of my friend and for almost murdering another." Klavier felt his anger rise with every word. "He has destroyed so many lives and so many hopes and dreams. He has left countless bereft of their loved ones. He has swindled, murdered and _Gott_ knows what else!" Klavier was on his feet now, rage making him restless. "Look at yourself, David!" he said, pointing at him violently. "He is so fallen that he has even tried to murder you – his own _brother_!"

David was staring at Klavier now, a stony expression freezing his face.

"Do not allow him to conquer your mind!" Klavier commanded. "Today is _your_ turn to win. It is _your _turn to look him in the eye and smile with victory and you must do it with conviction! For all the people that he has hurt and for all the injustice he has done to you." He exhaled deeply. "He is the killer, David._ Not_ you."

In the short moment that followed his outburst, Klavier watched the older Rainsford steadily rise to his full height and with a new kind of glint in his eye, the last vestige of sadness and guilt fell away. He nodded, grim determination on his lips and then he cocked his head to the side in an unexpected smile.

"You've got a good heart, kid," he said in an approving tone. "Don't ever lose it." He was saved from having to think of reply when David flicked his phone open and stared at him expectantly. "I want to move Lana somewhere safe. My security will have her – and Drake – moved somewhere safe. I just need legal permission."

Klavier took a deep breath – just enough to give him the time he needed to adjust to the turn in the conversation – and he nodded. "You will have to provide us with her whereabouts, of course."

David nodded curtly. "I'll call my men now."

Klavier couldn't help himself. "When you say your men—"

"Don't be stupid, boy," the man barked, his harsh persona back in place. "I wouldn't trust Lana's safety in the hands of anyone except honest people. They've passed the highest criminal checks in my company."

Klavier nodded and glanced at his watch. "I have to go prepare. Somebody will be by to tell you when it begins."

David laughed then, a truly amused laugh. "The stage is set, huh?"

"Ja," Klavier said, his own mouth curling into a smile.

"Rock-stars and their dramatics," David said, shaking his head. "You have to turn everything into a damn show, don't you?"

Klavier smirked, walking backwards to the exit. "It is not every day we find the opportunity to execute a criminal with such… _flair_."

"I believe you," David answered with another laugh. "I look forward to it."

"So do I, David," said Klavier, pausing at the door. "So do I."


	35. Vengeance

Vengeance

'.'

Ready yourself for the falling—

It's time for your judgement.

He's stepping out of the shadows now…

And he brings vengeance.

.'.

_He stands at the feet of his death, his twinkling eyes drinking in his surroundings and he sees the light._

_Yes, he sees the light – it spills rebelliously into his darkened room and his smile grows at the irony of his thought. What does man see in the light? Does the light not blind? Does the light not fade unfaithfully day in, day out? Does the light not give birth to the shadows man fears?_

_Man is stupid. He waxes poetic to lessen his irrational fears._

_What's so great about the light? he thinks. If you near the sun does it not burn and destroy? And yet, the night remains a friend, cloaking as we take solace in the solitude it offers. That killer of man, the foe of the nectar of life, that caster of shadows..._

_He rejects it. He does not respect it. And he cringes from it. But not because it forces him to face his own shadow. He does not fear his shadow._

_What is his shadow except the blackness of his soul? For blackness resides in all – it is there for anyone to discover and master. Like a past, it remains forever attached to one's being, and never lets go. Careful, my friend, he warns; what you do in the so-called purity of sunlight or the darkened abyss of your lair, your shadow will re-enact your every move, tracing your sin upon and tainting the sunlit ground before you. And it will mock you._

_And he dares any to scoff. He dares any to smile in pity. He has never confused reality with fantasy. He has never hidden from the truth. He knows what lies in the dark. He was born in the dark and in the dark he has lived. Each sin he has committed, his shadow has performed for his pleasure._

_And when his shadow mirrors his death, he shall watch with a smile. Contentment will tug at his lips, drawing from him his last smile at his shadow's final performance._

_For he shall be content… at last._

.'.

Gale and Simon were the last to return to the execution chamber; the Gavinners, Ema and Kade had been waiting for several moments and when the door opened, all their eyes turned to the quiet couple. Klavier saw their bloodshot eyes and despite the distance between their bodies, they both looked composed and still very much at one with each other.

Simon's eyes met with Kade's as soon as he set foot inside but Klavier knew, through that one glance, they wouldn't fight now. The Latino's eyes were fixed on his friend's with an almost deadened expression and then he nodded curtly as if he was proclaiming his forgiveness, however inadequate it may be.

The prosecutor didn't look to see Kade's reaction; instead, he gestured vaguely at the guard outside who nodded his understanding and disappeared.

"You sent for the doctor?" Seren guessed.

Klavier who nodded. "Ja."

His eyes still fixed on the open door and, as if in response, the officer returned, followed by an older man whose serious face remained devoid of expression. Klavier wished he didn't have to invite anybody who wasn't directly related to the case but he knew procedures required a qualified doctor to pronounce Rafael legally dead.

"Herr Doktor," he said in greeting.

"Prosecutor." The doctor inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Seren walked to the door and, with one backward glance at his colleagues, nodded to the guard and muttered a command. Again, the officer disappeared and then the British Gavinner closed the door followed by a beeping that signalled it had been locked.

"They're bringing him in," he said, turning back and looking at them all.

Klavier felt a shiver run down his spine and his eyes sought out Gale who was staring at the ground intently as if she wanted to say something but didn't know if she should. Slight curiosity stirred in him and he remembered the conversation he'd overheard earlier; his interest increased when he recalled the way David's name had cropped up and he wondered what it was that had her and Simon so wound up that the latter had turned to David for help.

"Is that door open?"

Klavier saw Deston pointing at the one behind them, the one Kade had used earlier. He nodded reassuringly.

"Ja. David will have no problem opening it from his side."

And because there were no words that could fill the void of anticipation opening up in the silence, they said nothing. As if they all knew each other's minds, the group swept around one another, subconsciously falling into a line before the glass that would soon play the movie they'd all been waiting for.

One last time, Klavier swept the room with his searching gaze and took in the stiffness of their backs, the air of impassiveness. Each of them looked into the execution room, their eyes flickering to the door beside the platform through which Rafael would walk in a few short moments.

Out of the corner of his eye, Klavier saw Deston shift, and Ema followed his gaze: the drummer was staring straight ahead, his eyes hard and cold. Without needing to ask, Klavier understood why Ema let go of his hand and moved to stand beside the man who was, without a doubt, her best friend. He wasn't bothered when Ema's fingers lightly touched Deston's nor that the drummer seemed to start in surprise and smile at her affectionately. The sight warmed him and again he was thankful that she slid into the chaos of his life so perfectly. That one of his best friends was also hers was a comfort to him. With them, she was safe…

"Thanks, Em," Deston murmured so quietly that Klavier only caught it because he was paying attention. The other Gavinner brought her hand to his lips for a kiss and then he slid an arm around her shoulders. However, the content smile that had begun to grow on his fa ce froze when a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention: he turned slowly towards the sound that had everyone so transfixed and his back arched.

Rafael was staring at the ground, not a frown nor scowl in sight to mar his smooth features. If Klavier wasn't mistaken, the man looked almost intrigued by the floor and he paid no attention to the guards that escorted him to the platform, their hands placed securely around his unbound wrists. There was, Klavier noticed, a slight apprehension flickering in the guard's eyes, leaving him to wonder exactly what Rafael might have said to them both. But that was not his concern right now — what bothered him was the determination with which Rafael's eyes remained downcast.

A great shadow fell across them like a blanket; under its weight, they almost buckled. The rectilinearity of their backs was now a rebellious display of strength and a reminder that weakness had no place in their beings, a show of their togetherness and brotherhood. Rafael would find nothing to exploit here.

_Thud. _

_Thud._

_Thud._

The sound of steady footsteps floated over the intercom and it echoed like a frightening drumbeat in the darkness that shrouded them. The metallic platform groaned almost as if in protest of the burden it now bore; the confident weight that strode up the stairs to their death were unwelcome even to the lifeless element.

They stopped. The officers retreated leaving Rafael's powerful figure on the platform where he faced the inadequate-looking noose and the window in between him and the spectators. Yet, still the eyes remained lowered to the ground and there was a frozen moment in which the guard behind him stepped back, looking ill at ease. Klavier, lost in his scrutiny of the underworld leader, forgot what was required of him.

_Why is he not looking up?_

The question unnerved him. What could be so interesting to the man on the floor and why…

_Why_ was he smirking as if he wasn't just about to die? What was going through his mind?

As though he knew what Klavier was thinking and was feeling amiable enough to answer his unvoiced questions, Rafael slowly lifted his head and his intense eyes fell on the prosecutor, the smirk erupting into a grin that shone too bright and unnatural in the shady room. For several split seconds, the man just stared at Klavier and Klavier stared back with all of the indifference he could manage.

_Just a few more moments_, he told himself. _This will be over soon_.

Without warning, Rafael's gaze switched to Deston and the moment their eyes met, his grin widened.

"Deston," he said and the cordiality of his voice disturbed Klavier; he looked at Deston whose face wore the same expressionless mask. "I think congratulations are in order. "You managed to procure a cocoon under impossible circumstances."

_How the hell does he know that?_

"It takes a lot of willpower," Rafael continued, "to persevere when your friend is dying."

"_Was_ dying," Klavier corrected.

Rafael's gaze remained fixed on Deston. "I can't help but wonder if you're trying to make up for the past."

Deston smiled then, as if he'd heard a joke. "I'm sure you can't help a lot of things, Rafael," he said with the first traces of amusement. "Dying being one of them."

Rafael let out a laugh. "Ah, such quick wit." His eyes twinkled. "There's no doubt you could have been great if… Well." He paused with a good-natured shrug. "That's all in the past, isn't it?"

"Kind of like you, Rainsford," Raoul sneered, stepping forward and drawing Rafael's attention to himself. "You're slippin' into history and all you can do is make desperate jabs." His eyes flashed. "Save your breath."

"Ahh…" Rafael nodded, crossing his arms. "Marquis of Lerova, am I right?" Without waiting for an answer, he fell into an elegant bow and then flashed another perfect grin. "_Signore_, it is an honour to be addressed by royalty."

Raoul laughed. "Don't patronise me, you self-serving asshole." He took another step closer to the glass separating them, looking right into Rafael's smiling face. "I know your type, Rainsford — the smaller the pip, the louder the squeak."

"I'm certain you do, _Signore_," Rafael replied, inclining his head. His mouth curled maliciously for the first time. "You were born of one, weren't you? I hear he squeaked louder than one of your concerts when he was killed."

Alarm bells went off in Klavier's head as Raoul stepped right up to the glass and hissed wordlessly; his past was a subject he had forbidden any of them to repeat. That it should be brought up now, by this man, should have come as no surprise to Klavier but the foresight he'd had to research Raoul was disquieting.

"Is that the delicious Ema I see?" Rafael said suddenly, his gaze reverting back to Deston where Ema was still holding onto him. Klavier turned to them sharply but he needn't have worried about her reaction; she was staring at him without a hint of fear. "I've heard a great deal about you, Ema," he said, his voice and expression still friendly. "They told me you're nigh indestructible."

"Or you're just incompetent," she shot back.

"You intrigue me, Ema," Rafael said, is face rearranging itself into a representation of this fact. "What is it about you that has so many desperate for your death?"

Klavier's blood ran cold at those words and, from where he was standing, he was certain he saw the others react to Rafael's odd interest in her. He made it sound like…like…

A thrill of fear shot through the prosecutor: he made it sound like he wasn't the only one who wanted her dead.

"You won't hurt her," Seren said, his voice ever-calm and ever-dignified. "You won't hurt anyone again."

Those steely eyes didn't move from Ema's but when Rafael spoke again, he was addressing Seren.

"I don't quite remember saying I'd hurt anyone, Mr Aded," he said serenely. "I just remarked on Ema's… _fascinating_ personality." He paused. "You're very beautiful, Ema."

Klavier's fists clenched as rage began to seep into his skin and he forced himself to remember what Gale had told him: Rafael was doing this to get a rise out of them. No matter how much he wanted to march over to Ema and thrust her behind him, to shield her from Rafael's gaze, the act itself would be a small triumph for the bastard.

"I hope you aren't expecting a compliment from me," Ema snarled.

Rafael's smile became dazzling. "No, sunshine," he laughed. "Compliments are for the insecure."

"And you are so confident of your own self-worth, aren't you, Rafael?"

Rafael's gaze shifted beyond them to the trio at the back and he looked elegantly delighted by what he saw: Simon stepped forward and the Gavinners in his way stepped aside to make room for him, not a word to stop him. The Latino stood tall but there was something different about him, something that Klavier had glimpsed but never seen in its entirety.

Icy fury radiated off Simon in overpowering waves. Energy and fire raged in his eyes and he trembled like electricity gone wild — everything about him was chaos and out of control and it was a wonder his body didn't fall apart with the visible rage that expanded from inside. Klavier had known that part of Gale's unwillingness to tell Simon of Rafael's threat had been in fear of his reaction, in the way he would retaliate if she'd told him the truth but he'd never fully been able to understand — until now.

Everyone in the room was noticeably unsettled by the sight of him; his form shuddered uncontrollably and he stood there, tall and dark and terrifying, like a fallen angel.

"Simon," Rafael said, feigning surprise. "I didn't see you there."

Nobody was fooled by the blatant lie.

"In case you didn't see me either," Gale said suddenly, moving to stand beside Simon, "I'm here too."

Rafael's eyes swept her form, taking in her perfectly fitting but modest suit and Klavier thought he saw a flicker of bewilderment in the man's eyes. He smirked then, realising what had probably bothered Rafael: in her attire, one could have easily been fooled into believing she'd never really died.

"Gale Rainsford," Rafael murmured just loud enough for the words to float in over the intercom.

"Gale Sanders," she corrected calmly. "I kept David's name out of love for him."

"And now that he's dead, you don't want it anymore?" Rafael guessed.

"Wrong," Gale contradicted. "My love for him has changed."

"How delightful," Rafael laughed before looking at Simon, his eyes shining, his mouth turning cruel again. "Don't you ever wonder if David and her are living out their happily ever after in ghost-land while you rot away in prison?"

Seren made a sudden movement as if he was going to jump in Simon's way and Klavier understood the alarm his friend portrayed at once — for someone who was quivering with rage from head to toe, Simon was an easy target.

But the Latino just let out a bark of laughter. "No, Rafe. I don't."

"Oh?" Rafael looked impressed. "Fallen out of love with her, have you? Wise choice."

Simon just laughed again. "You're not _that_ stupid, Rainsford."

Rafael shrugged. "Many things can happen when you're facing the noose."

"Rafael."

Her voice was low, soft. With steady eyes set on her killer, Gale stepped forward and like the red sea, they all parted, leaving a chasm-like space before her. Klavier felt odd looking at the large circle of emptiness that she stepped into and the odd thought crossed his mind that it wasn't yet filled. But he banished the thought from his wandering mind and focused on Gale.

"I don't know what made you this way," she said quietly, her face raised to his. "I tried to understand you at first… I couldn't imagine someone could be so fallen without a reason."

Rafael seemed amused. "Did you have any luck?"

"What drove you to this madness?" Gale shook her head. "I tried but I don't understand."

Rafael suddenly moved closer to the glass between them and neither of the guards stopped him. Klavier frowned, reminding himself that Rafael couldn't break through the barrier, even if he tried. Still, as the elder Rainsford dropped to a crouch, looking into her face with a slight frown between his eyes and a genuine smile on his lips, Klavier felt unease curl in his stomach.

"In the dark I was born," Rafael said in an equally soft voice. "And in the dark I have lived."

Unlike Klavier, Gale wasn't the least bit perturbed by the intense scrutiny of his eyes nor the proximity of him. "I gave up a long time ago," she said, shaking her head. "Whatever drove you to insanity, you're too dangerous to let live, Rafael."

"I agree," Rafael said, suddenly flashing a smile. "But so were you, Gale."

Her only response was to stare at him calmly.

"Look at him," Rafael gestured at Simon without taking his eyes off her. "He's still mourning you, still in love with you." He leaned back as if to assess her features. "You turned Dave into a simpering coward and Kade into a back-stabbing bundle of emotions."

Still, Gale said nothing.

"You've brought some of the most heartless bastards to their knees," Rafael said softly. "You ruined them without lifting a finger."

A heavy silence pervaded the room in which everyone knew they should say something but nobody felt it pertinent. Klavier glanced at Simon and Kade, both of whom stood stock-still, their hands curled into tight fists but their lips remained pursed — because this war of wills was between Rafael and Gale.

"Yes," Gale agreed, sending a ripple of shock through the room. "It's true, I sacrificed too much to try and bring you to this moment." She turned then and looked at Simon sadly. "I made decisions that affected more than just my life... but I would have burnt towns and forests to destroy you." Her voice was like silk over steel and her eyes were flashing like lightning now. "Do you know why, Rafael?"

"Please, tell me," he replied almost gently.

"You would burn the world for your pleasure, Rafe," she said, her voice rising. "You would tear apart families and friends for fun. You would take a woman from the man she loves just because she _suits _your _purpose_! You would take a child from her mother because you have a _plan_! _You would hunt your brother for sport_!"

Gale was breathing heavily, her chest heaving with the effort it took to remain calm.

"You would do it all for no humane reasons."

She shook her head, disgusted and then she spun on the spot to look at Simon who was watching her with an unfathomable expression. One steady hand lifted through the air until it was pointing at her partner and she faced Rafael again.

"But this is why I would burn the world to destroy you."

And then she was standing before Simon and looking into his eyes; Klavier felt it again, that feeling like something was tugging on the very energy in the atmosphere. Simon was looking down into her face without a trace of the rage he'd exuded moments ago and when she spoke it was soft and full of love and Klavier saw it tear at the seams of his being. Simon was undone by her.

"He's the reason I was born," she murmured. It looked like she was going to add more but then Simon shook his head — ever so slightly — and her eyes fluttered close as if she couldn't comprehend the love in his eyes.

"And he's the reason you died," Rafael whispered with an indulgent smile. "How _perfect_."

The moment broken, they all turned hateful eyes on the unmoved Rafael. There was a collective hiss around the room but, surprisingly, it was Kade who stepped forward to challenge Rafael. "You should know better than to try and play her, Rafael," he said in his deeply quiet voice.

Simon joined him then, stepping into the chasm beside Kade. "She's the woman who's brought you to this point," he sneered, crossing his arms. "Your petty word games won't work on Gale."

As Klavier watched, the brunette moved in between them and suddenly the void felt almost complete. _But not yet_, he observed, his eyes snapping to the trio standing side by side, facing the crouching Rafael fearlessly.

"Kade…"

Rafael's eyes hadn't moved from the man since he'd stepped forward and a calculating sort of expression came over his face: he was searching Kade for something, something Klavier didn't quite understand though something told him he should, that there was some secret in his gaze that was significant to him somehow…

"It's a shame you allowed yourself to be dragged into this hole, Kade," he said without a hint of a smile or mockery. "You're a very intelligent man."

"Thanks." Kade's voice was dry, sarcastic.

"But…" Rafael shook his head and rose to his feet, stepping away from the glass. "It's not enough."

"Your daughter is intelligent," Kade acknowledged with a bow of the head, "but she's still human."

Rafael laughed, moving further back still until he was facing the noose again, and then he looked at a space over their heads. "That's proof beyond the shadow of a doubt that you will never win." He smiled, closing his eyes. "If you think my girl is human, you're getting senile, Kade." He laughed. "She's a Fury."

Klavier was sickened by the pride in the man's voice, the smirk on his face and the easy, comfortable pose of his form. Something wasn't right in the way he had positioned himself for the noose, something that told him they were missing something…

And yet, what could he possibly do now? Rafael was surrounded and trapped in a room with enough guards to force him into the noose should it come to that. There was no way for him to escape short of summoning the armies of Hell to break him out. He was just being paranoid — like Rafael wanted him to be.

Klavier threw a glance at Deston who had watched the entire exchange with a grim expression, to Ema whose eyes were wide with disbelief and shock. He didn't blame her — the madness of Rafael had come like a disaster, attempting to drown them in its disease-ridden flood. To his left stood Raoul and Seren, both of them watching coolly though the stiffness of their backs spoke volumes about their emotions. And just behind them, so silent Klavier had forgotten him, was the doctor he had summoned — his make-up of indifference wasn't the least bit convincing but the prosecutor knew better than to ask if he was okay.

"Are you guys having second thoughts about this?" Rafael opened his eyes and looked down on them all suddenly. "I'm all ready to meet my Maker."

Gale let out an unexpected laugh. "I don't know about meeting your Maker, Rafe," she said with mirth. "I do know you'll be meeting me."

"Well, then," Rafael said, winking at her. "That's a comfort."

"Herr Rainsford," Klavier said, drawing all attention to himself. "I have a question before we begin."

Rafael cocked his head to the side. "Certainly, Klavier."

"Where is Gordon Mazzare?"

He saw his friends visibly jerk with shock at the mention but Klavier kept his focus, refusing to break eye-contact with Rafael. It was a long shot, a crazy question to which the answer was as elusive as the air he breathed but it couldn't be contained — it came to him unbidden and powerful like a fire blazing out of control.

He had to ask. Even if he didn't get an answer, he had to ask.

"Gordon?" Rafael's mouth twitched and the prosecutor had a horrible feeling the crime lord was comparing him to Kristoph in his mind. "Gordon."

Klavier waited, his insides in a million knots while Rafael considered him and he felt the years of uncertainty swimming in him and a voice in his head was telling him something was wrong, that he shouldn't have mentioned it here and now. But where and when else could he mention it? Rafael would die now and if he didn't ask, the young Gavin knew he would be forever plagued by that damning _'what-if'_.

"I suppose it doesn't matter which Gavin delivers," Rafael said with a sigh and Klavier's eyes narrowed. "All that matters is I know David is gone. And you brought me that news, Klavier."

The prosecutor turned cold. "What are you talking about?" he said harshly.

"Find my daughter," Rafael said nonchalantly, "and you find Gordon."

"What the hell did you mean 'it doesn't matter which Gavin delivers'?" Klavier snarled.

"I don't divulge secrets, Klavier," Rafael said with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Why don't you talk to your brother? Now, let's get this started." He laughed. "_I'm_ anxious to talk to _my_ brother."

And then, all the rage gathering inside Klavier dispersed at the reminder of David and the delusion Rafael was labouring under. A part of him had known — even before he'd asked it — that he would get no answer to his question, so it was easier to accept the vagueness of Rafael's response and the sinister remark he'd made about Kristoph. In this moment, nothing else mattered.

Only vengeance.

"That can be arranged," Klavier said with a smirk, turning to look at the Italian.

Raoul saw the resolute expression on his friend's face and nodded at the blond. Silently telling him to begin, Klavier glanced at the smiling Rafael whose eyes were closed again. Being the only one who had the legal power to command it, Raoul pierced one of the guards with his emerald gaze and nodded.

In response, the guard moved toward Rafael and, grabbing his hands, pulled them behind him. The older Rainsford didn't resist the metal of the handcuffs that clasped around his wrists nor did he complain when the man guided him closer to the hanging rope and slipped it around his neck. Though the sight should have been satisfying to him, Klavier fumed at the dignity with which Rafael donned the noose.

_No matter_, he reminded himself. _We will soon remedy that_.

"Hey, sunshine," Rafael said unexpectedly, looking at Gale with an icy sparkle in his eye. "See you on the other side."

Klavier smirked and across the room, Deston laughed harshly. Raoul looked at Seren and both of them nodded as if in agreement though it was nothing more than a ruse to unsettle Rafael. Taking charge, they both stepped forward to face the guards, one of whom still stood behind Rafael while the other held a lever beside the platform, an expectant look on his face. Seren suspended a hand in the air while Raoul dropped his eyes to the watch on his wrist.

Klavier looked at his own: 9:41.

"Rafael Ian Rainsford," Seren spoke quietly. "You have—"

"Not so fast, Mr Aded," Gale said suddenly in a voice so laden with sugar that it reeked of deception. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Rafael's eyes snapped open and fixed on her, dark with suspicion.

"Buggeration!" Seren cursed exuberantly. "You're right!"

"You forgot something?" Deston quipped innocently.

"Ja, _natürlich_!" Klavier added, deliberate exaggeration in every syllable. "We almost forgot to grant Herr Rainsford his last wish."

"You idiot!" Raoul chastised Klavier, his smirk growing. "How could you forget something like that?"

"It's understandable, I guess," Kade excused.

"No it isn't," Simon argued. "It's unacceptable, is what it is, boys."

"An almost catastrophic oversight on our part," Klavier agreed and turned to Rafael whose expression had turned menacing — nothing had bothered him until this faux display of… _something_ he didn't understand. Those eyes of his swept over them probingly as if he was willing one of them to explain just what the hell they were all so pleased about but they did nothing except stare back at him with eyes riven with contempt and cocky smiles.

"You always save the day, princess," Simon said, dropping a kiss to Gale's forehead.

Deston threw her a dazzling smile. "You _are_ an exceptional woman, Miss Sanders," he complimented.

"Bunch of fops," Ema grumbled in contrast and Klavier smirked at her, satisfied she was talking again. "So filled with their own egos, they can't get anything right."

"My apologies, Herr Rainsford."

"For what?" Rafael said icily, the first chink in his soon-to-fall-apart armour finally revealing itself.

Klavier blinked in a fake display of bemusement. "You wished to talk to David, ja?"

Rafael's eyes were slits now. "I might be tied up, Klavier," he said in a dangerous tone, "but you _don't_ want to piss me off."

Klavier grinned offhandedly and ran a hand through the hair that fell across his forehead. "Angering you is not my purpose, Rafael," he lied.

"We're just trying to fulfil a dying man's wish," Deston added. "You shouldn't be angry, Rafael. After all," he continued darkly, "it's more than you gave any of your victims."

Rafael's eyes lowered to the ground again until nobody could see the expression in them and he suddenly looked like he had when he'd entered the room. His features dissolved into hilarity and then he was chuckling calmly as if he'd just understood a joke.

"_Ahhh_," he sighed. "Go on, Klavier. Show me what you have planned. I'll pretend to be surprised."

"Oh, you won't need to pretend," Deston reassured him.

They waited for Rafael to say something but there was nothing, not a word nor movement from the man — he became utterly still and just kept his gaze fixed firmly on the space between his feet. It was perfect; Klavier could hardly have asked for more. Walking backwards and keeping his attention focused on Rafael, he raised a hand and rapped on the door three times. The sound echoed around them dauntingly and Klavier spared a glance at Rafael who still hadn't moved.

And then the door opened.

Though nobody looked at him, David's entrance changed the atmosphere; his footsteps were slow and quiet, his breathing even but his presence was like crackling electricity. Ema was the first to look at him and then everyone followed her gaze.

He looked as terrifying as Simon had.

David's stance was just as powerful and threatening. His steely eyes were narrowed into slits of menace, his mouth pressed together in a hard line and there was a violent tick in his jaw. Determination in every step and menace curling his fists, David approached the glass. His feet carried him to the space his friends occupied and just as he stepped into it, the void ceased to exist; beside the triad of Gale, Simon and Kade, he finally stopped.

"Hello Rafe," he said in a beguilingly soft voice.

His brother didn't move, looking almost as if he was dead already, and were it not for the way his neck tautened, Klavier might have worried he was, worried because he didn't want Rafael to go anywhere until he'd experienced the wonderful reunion they'd all planned for him. He laughed inwardly at the thought, his hand rubbing the smile off his face.

"Klavier."

It wasn't the hardness of his voice that took them by surprise but that Rafael had addressed him first — with another swipe of his hand, the prosecutor suppressed a smile and, hooking a thumb through his belt, answered as sombrely as he could; "Ja?"

He didn't expect an answer; Klavier could see the way Rafael's body was beginning to shake, rage beginning to visibly consume him and a rush of satisfaction flooded him. _This made all of my effort worthwhile, _he thought, taking a step forward.

"Your brother is going to die."

Klavier turned cold. _"What?"_

Of all the things Rafael could have said to him, this shocked him the most; stunned into silence, he could do nothing but watch when the elder Rainsford looked up. The inhuman glint in his eyes froze him right where he stood. The mask slipped away, leaving behind the true face of his opponent — chillingly evil and filled with dark promises.

"When you realise how Kristoph used you," Rafael hissed, "you'll kill him yourself."

Another thrill of fear shot through him but he concealed it. "The last words of a desperate man," Klavier bit out coldly.

"I'm far from desperate, Klavier." Rafael's mouth curled into an ugly expression. "Pissed off but never desperate," he snarled. "Unfortunately for you, pissing me off was a _bad_ move."

"What are you going to do?" Ema sneered. "Haunt us?"

"We're not afraid of ghosts," Deston laughed.

Rafael's eyes snapped to his. "Those are some mighty big words for someone still holding onto one, Deston," he mocked.

Deston's jaw tightened. "I've buried the past."

"I see that," Rafael whispered.

"You're pathetic," Ema snarled, stepping forward and looking Rafael in the eye. "Striking out like a cornered snake!"

"Then let me change my tune, Ema," he said softly, leaning as far forward as the noose would let him. "Here's a word of advice: _run_."

"From what?" Ema retorted. "Your failed attempts to murder me? If you think you can haunt me to death, you—"

"I've only tried to kill you once," Rafael interrupted, the first flicker of amusement returning to his eyes. "The first time there was an attempt on your life, _that_ was me."

Klavier knew he should move forward and stop the exchange but he was still frozen by Rafael's unexpected threat — they were all enthralled by his outburst of hellish comments. They'd thought themselves prepared for this but none of them seemed to know how to respond to this unveiling of his true personality.

"Something about you has caught my daughter's attention, Ema, and I can tell you with absolute certainty," he growled threateningly, "that that _isn't_ a good thing."

"I'm quaking in my shoes," she sneered.

"She marked you didn't she?" Rafael said suddenly and laughed when Ema jerked, instantly touching her wrist. "Yeah. I thought so." He leaned forward again. "I'll be waiting for you on the other side, my lovely detective."

"Shut your mouth," Klavier snarled, jolted out of his reverie by the threat.

"Rafael," Kade cut in curtly. "That's—"

"Enough?" Rafael laughed. "You should know by now, Kade. It's never enough." His eyes glinted dangerously. "She will _never_ have enough."

Raoul let out a sharp laugh of derision. "Your daughter sounds like a first-class whore, Rainsford."

"My _girl_," he intoned softly, "is a first-class killer."

"And that's relevant, how?" David spoke quietly and the atmosphere in the room changed again. The silence grew thicker. Rafael's eyes were downcast again.

"You're boasting about the capability of your daughter," David continued, uncrossing his arms and gesturing around, "but where is she? Why isn't she here to save you?"

"Ah, brother," Rafael answered and — to everyone's surprise — laughed quietly. "How are you?"

"Perfectly fine, Rafe," David answered, his voice emotionless.

The elder Rainsford looked up then, his eyes glinting equal parts malice and amusement. "Where have you been?" he asked genially. "Your niece has been wanting to meet you for a long time."

David raised an eyebrow.

"I have to admit, brother," Rafael murmured, sweeping his audience casually. "It isn't your style to be so… _dramatic_. Was this all your idea?"

David cocked his head to the side and jabbed a thumb at Klavier.

"Ah, but of course," Rafael said as if a great secret had been revealed to him. "Life is so deliciously ironic."

Klavier felt another stab of paranoia. "Your riddles are unappreciated," he snarled before he could stop himself.

"Ignore him," David said calmly. "He's just trying to cause trouble."

"The day you and Deston came to deliver the order for my execution," Rafael went on, his smile steadily growing again. "Do you remember? You accused me of having had Ema kidnapped which — by the way — I had no idea about until then," he added, glancing at Ema and Deston with a laugh. "Whatever you've done to annoy Irina, it wasn't a wise move, Ema."

The cold swirling in Klavier's stomach turned to ice.

Rafael turned back to him without waiting for a response. "As I was saying. That day, you thought I was waiting for you…" Klavier felt his body turning to stone. "I was waiting for Kristoph."

His heart dropped to his feet, crashing into the block of ice.

"Everything you know is about to change, Klavier." Rafael looked at all of them. "Everything you're all trying to prevent has just been set in motion."

"Rafael," David interrupted. "Stop it."

"You're right, Dave," his brother replied, nodding and bowing his head in mock-shame. "It's been a while since we spoke. How _are_ things with you?"

"I have kids too," David answered surprising them all. "Though I don't think any of them want to meet their uncle quite so much."

"Why didn't you bring them to see the show?" Rafael asked with a smile.

David's only answer was to stare at his brother stoically.

"Isn't that something they _would_ have liked to see?" Rafael continued. "It would have been a nice family outing."

"This isn't a show, Rafe," David said softly.

"You sure went to a lot of trouble, Dave " he replied. "The grand entrance, the greeting…"

"I wouldn't have done any of it," David said, shaking his head. "I never wanted to see your face again. You've hunted me like an animal for all my life. You destroyed all my hopes of being happy. You tried your hardest to drag me into the dark with you."

"Brothers should stick together, Dave " Rafael answered calmly.

"I could have ignored all that," he went on. "But the moment you approached Gale, you signed up for this. From that day on, _this_ was the only end you could have had." David's voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "You'll regret laying a hand on her."

Rafael smirked, looking at Simon. "Doesn't it bother you that he's talking about her like that?"

"_SHUT UP!"_ David roared. _"YOU'RE ABOUT TO FUCKING DIE AND YOU STILL WON'T SHUT UP!" _

Rafael straightened, a satisfied look on his face. "Careful, Dave," he cautioned. "You might blow a gasket."

"You're a fucking loser," David spat.

"Eloquently said, brother."

"Don't call me that," he snarled. "Dad was right about you — you're nothing but an abomination!"

And then Klavier saw it — the real chink in Rafael's armour. It dented under David's words as if he'd been struck by a mace and the subsequent expression of rage flowed into his features.

"Don't talk to me about him, David," he commanded in a hard voice.

"Why?" David sneered. "Because he hates you now that he knows your true colours?"

"Hate me?" Rafael jeered. "If he hates me its only because I left him with no choice but to leave his empire to a _weakling_!"

David drew back in shock but before he could retort, Gale and Simon were at his side like a forbidding wall.

"What a low-level comeback," Simon scoffed irreverently. "My pinky could do better."

"Look at the noose," Gale said, cocking her head to the side as she examined it. "It looks surprisingly good on him, doesn't it?"

"I agree," Ema added unexpectedly. "It almost completes him."

Ema's voice was all the incentive they needed to break themselves out of the spell that had been cast over them. The Gavinners stirred and Klavier shook his head a little, taken aback by his own momentary ineffectuality. Anger rushed through him when he realised how easily he'd allowed himself to be affected by Rafael in spite of Gale's warning that he would try to dismantle his confidence; when he looked at Raoul, the man looked almost as annoyed as he felt.

"Are we all done here?" Raoul asked David.

"Not yet," Gale said before David could answer; her eyes were fixed on Rafael with something akin to disconcertion.

"What the hell else is there to do?" Raoul demanded. "Every time this dick opens his trap, he pisses someone off."

"What are you up to?" Gale said suddenly, her voice sharper than it had ever been.

Rafael cocked an eyebrow but instead of answering her, he unexpectedly turned to Seren and smiled evilly. "Maralie is going to die. "

A ripple of shock flittered through them and Seren's face turned white.

"And the late Marquis?" Rafael laughed at Raoul. "He refused to back off and for that, I killed him myself. He was begging for death when I finally gave it to him."

The Italian's body shuddered and Klavier grabbed hold of him when he snarled and launched himself at the glass but Rafael, unperturbed, had already moved on to Kade, his smile instantly disappearing.

"You're an idiot, Richards," he snarled. "Irina is going to gut your family for this betrayal."

"I welcome her to try," Kade said icily.

"Don't invite the devil," Rafael whispered. "Especially not when the devil comes with an army."

"Be quiet," Gale snapped, the alarm in her voice barely disguised.

"And you." Rafael turned burning eyes on her. "Your Lana isn't going to see the light of day."

Klavier's insides clenched with fear and suddenly the ground beneath his feet rocked. His wide eyes swung to Gale just as a rush of air escaped her; she was staring at Rafael, utterly petrified, a deluge of horror distorting her face.

"How—?"

"You think I didn't know?" he asked with a mocking laugh. "Did you really think you were that clever?"

"Enough," Klavier snarled, turning to Seren. "Get the gua—"

"And Ema…"

Klavier froze midsentence, his eyes turning to the now frozen detective as she stared at Rafael blankly.

"You're going to watch all the people you love die before she comes for you," Rafael promised darkly. "Deston, Lana, Klavier… You'll bury them all before the end."

Ema's lips parted but no sound came out except for a heavy exhale as if someone had punched her and before Klavier could say a word to intervene, Deston had grabbed her by the arm and pulled her behind him, using his body to shield her against Rafael's murderous glare.

"Hiding won't change anything," Rafael laughed. "My blood will spill his. Your sisters. Your friends. _Do you hear me, sunshine?_" He leaned as far forward as he could, trying to look past Deston's frame. "They're all dead men walking."

"Shut up!" Ema cried, losing her composure.

"I've had enough of your claptrap," Deston thundered, suddenly marching across to where Seren stood. "You've said more than anyone should have let yo—"

"Do you want to know why Raina came to me alone instead of telling you about it?" Rafael said suddenly, his voice inviting.

Deston froze mid-step and then slowly turned on the spot to face Rafael, tension lining every facet of his handsome face. "Raina has no place in this conversation," he said tightly.

"Does she have a place in your heart?"

Klavier's hands slipped from around Raoul's arm but when he made to go for Deston, the Italian stopped him, wordlessly staring at the drummer who was now shaking, his hands curled into powerful fists.

"Nothing you say about Raina will get to me, Rainsford," Deston said in a hard voice. "I've moved on."

"You wouldn't if you'd heard her screams," Rafael goaded, not the least bit convinced by Deston's claim. "She screamed and screamed until she lost her voice," he whispered. "And when she couldn't scream anymore, she cried."

Up until that point, Klavier hadn't thought his stomach existed anymore but when it clenched nauseatingly at the sickening words, he realised there was still more the bastard could do. Even when he'd thought himself most hollowed out, Rafael had managed to make him feel worse; pain shot through him as his mind unwillingly visualised the beautiful woman he'd once known, bloodied…dead. The idea of her crying, screaming, possibly for them, pained him more than he could ever convey and he felt the old sense of shame return.

"Did you ever see her cry, Deston?"

The air stilled in the silence that followed and they were all frozen with the disbelief of Rafael's cruelty, frozen by the alarmingly stony expression on Deston's face.

When he moved, Klavier knew what he was going to do but his body wouldn't respond, maybe because he didn't want to stop his friend from doing what he did; with one even move, Deston reached into the waistband of his pants and drew his gun. Time seemed to slow down because Klavier saw everything that happened next with startling clarity. Without pausing to think, Deston turned his gun to the corners of the glass and shot with deadly precision.

There was a pause then, when nothing happened and they all stared at the bullet holes in the thick barrier of glass, entirely too stunned by Deston's behaviour to move, to say _anything_ to him. Then Klavier, who saw the way Deston's face darkened with harrowing purpose, jumped across the room to where Ema stood, transfixed; his arms wrapped around her and, just as Deston turned his gun to the centre of the glass and pulled the trigger, Klavier shouted, _"Get down!"_

A final shot rang through the silence and they all ducked; the pane shattered and fell and with it the room exploded into chaos.

"_Deston_!" Ema screamed.

"_GRAB HIM!"_ Klavier yelled.

But Deston had already flown through the broken barrier, up onto the platform where Rafael calmly stood, a triumphant gleam in his eye. Without hesitation, Raoul shot forward, leaping onto the metal surface but before he could pull him back, Deston had swung around and caught him around the neck. There was a moment of pause in which Raoul made to free himself from the head-lock but then Deston threw him backwards through the air, whirling on the spot as he did so and giving them all a glimpse of his face; rage thundered in his every feature and lightning struck in his eyes. Raoul landed with a painful thud among the glittering glass shards. Ema gasped, racing to Raoul's side and helping him up but just then, Seren launched himself at Deston. Again, the agent was ready and the Brit didn't stand a chance; Deston spun on his feet and his elbow knocked right into Seren's face, knocking him off balance and sending him through the air to land a foot away from where Ema and Raoul were.

Breathing heavy, Deston stared at them furiously, his gaze sweeping over them all with uncharacteristic contempt as Ema helped Seren to his feet.

"Don't get in my way," he threatened in a dangerously low voice, before piercing the guards with fierce eyes, leaving them in no doubt that the warning included them.

"Deston," Klavier said, carefully stepping forward. "Get away from him. This is what he wants."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a fucking kid, Gavin!" Deston snarled. "I'm not going to shoot the fucker."

Klavier took another step forward, cringing at the chink of the glass beneath his boots but Deston had already turned back to Rafael, completely uncaring of his advance.

"You want to play games with me, old man?" he said viciously. "You want to see real pain?"

Rafael smiled.

"I'm not going to kill you, Rainsford," he added, his face taking on an uncharacteristically ugly smile. "No matter how much I want to. That would be too soft a death."

"I'm curious, Deston," Rafael answered. "Does this mean you _did_ see her cry?"

Klavier watched with a deepening sense of foreboding as Deston took one step backwards and froze, as if thinking about something. He wanted to move forward — could see the others staring at Deston with fear — and wanted to stop him but the look on his face was enough of a warning. He was unreachable; if they approached him now, he wouldn't hesitate to give them more than just inadvertent cuts and bruises. He'd been trained with lethal design and Klavier knew that, even together, they were no match for him.

And then, suddenly Deston swung violently, one leg rising through the air so fast they barely saw it — there was a loud _crack!_ as his heavy boot connected with Rafael's face and even before Deston stilled, blood was gushing from his nose.

"How's _that_ for an answer, Rainsford?"

Unable to wipe the blood that trickled over his lips, Rafael tilted his head to the side as if in an attempt to change the direction of the flow. "Not bad, Deston," he murmured. "You _did_ train in the SS."

"I would love to kill you," Deston whispered, murder dripping from every syllable. "I want nothing more than to slowly rip you limb from limb for everything you've ever done." He paused as if he were imagining the satisfaction that would bring him but then he shook his head and took another step back. "But that's what you want."

Rafael spat at Deston's feet, blood staining the metal disgustingly. The Gavinner didn't even glance at it.

"David," Deston said softly, never taking his eyes off Rafael who visibly tensed. "Would you come up here please?"

Klavier's eyes snapped to David; his facial expression was blank. And then his insides broiled with a frenzy of horror and disbelief when he realised what Deston was planning; he looked to Raoul and Seren, their expressions frozen into a mix of morbid fascination and astonishment.

_No, surely he does not mean…_

David was already moving, the sound of crushing glass beneath his shoes resounding forebodingly. Everyone's eyes were on him as he neared the broken window and stepped onto the elevated platform until he was level with his brother. His eyes were fixed determinedly on some point ahead and he refused to meet Rafael's gaze despite the intense way he was staring at David — all of the mockery and amusement was gone, leaving only a dark expression of brutal rage that befit the blood gushing from his broken nose.

"Step away from there," Deston commanded, pointing at one of the guards whose eyes nearly popped out of his sockets. He glanced down at the lever and then back at Deston uncertainly. "_I said_," the Gavinner hissed, "_move_."

"Deston, stop this," Ema spoke up and her voice was shaking. "This is what he wants."

"_Look at his face!_" Deston shouted, rounding on Ema while pointing into Rafael's distorted expression. _"Does it look like this is what he wants?"_

"Deston," Klavier interrupted, taking another step forward, now almost close enough to step into the other room beside his friend. "This is wrong. You will—"

"Shut up, Gavin!" he barked. "Your plan failed. It's not enough to just show him David's alive!"

"You do _not_ have the authority to do this," Klavier said firmly. "And neither does David."

"Stop this, Deston," Seren added, his voice soft. "This isn't what Raina would have wanted."

"_I DON'T KNOW WHAT SHE'D WANT!"_ Deston screamed, his anguished words like tiny knives. _"SHE'S DEAD! HE KILLED HER AND HE'S THREATENED TO KILL EMA! ARE YOU GOING TO TELL ME THIS IS INJUSTICE?"_

"Des," Raoul said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. "Come on, man. Get down from there."

But Deston had turned to Simon, his eyes wild. "Tell me what I'm doing is wrong,"

All eyes were on Simon now who, to Klavier's discomfort, was looking on the scene with a remarkably closed expression. "You're not."

Klavier turned to Gale then, ready to beseech her but her eyes were burning with a fire he'd never before seen and he knew he couldn't count on her support. Still, something inside him hoped and he paused, before quietly speaking. "Gale?"

"He's right, Klavier," she answered coldly, staggering him.

"B-But he's doing what Rafael wants!" Ema cried.

"Rafael doesn't want David pulling that lever," Simon contradicted, shaking his head. "His face says that much."

"How astute," Rafael spat ferociously. "If my brother touches that lever, I can promise you, you'll regret it."

"Whatever he really wanted," Gale continued icily as if he'd never spoken, "he's accomplished it."

"What are you talking about?" Raoul demanded bluntly.

"He's done something," Simon said in disgust.

"Done what?" Seren asked.

"Set something in motion," Kade answered. "Whatever Rafael was up to, he's managed it. It only stands to reason he should get his comeuppance."

"This is not the—"

"Klavier," Gale cut across him sharply, piercing him with her eyes. "This man has murdered people we love and he's threatening to murder more. And believe you me when I say," she emphasised, turning to look at Rafael again, "that he means every single word of it."

Klavier opened his mouth to argue again but nothing came out.

"He's chased David across continents," she added, looking at her ex. "He's snatched the world from Deston. He deserves this pain."

Under these words, the protest died in him. Klavier looked at Deston but his friend had turned his back on them again, apparently satisfied with the answers he'd received. The prosecutor's gaze shifted to Seren and Raoul whose expressions were closed off in an inadvertent sign of consent and to Ema whose mouth had hardened into a thin line. Whatever her thoughts on the matter, she wasn't fighting the silent decision.

Could he? Should he?

"David."

He looked at Simon when he spoke and there was no resentment or anger or surprise at the unexpected sound — David only looked inquisitive.

"Yeah?"

Simon's eyes glittered. "Enjoy this. For us both."

It was as if the wind had been knocked out of Klavier; the iniquitous nature of those words made him very aware, in that moment, of their past as criminals — who else could enjoy a death? But then, almost instantly, he remembered all that they had both suffered, all that they'd had to endure because of one man's vendetta against his own flesh and blood. If they were monsters in the eyes of the world, Klavier decided, it was Rafael's doing.

The last remaining doubt in his mind flickered like a dying candle and went out.

David's response was a wry smile. "You've no idea, man."

And suddenly, they didn't look like the broken men Klavier had met; something healed in that moment that reflected their brotherhood, their friendship and their understanding of each other. It was an odd thing — and perhaps something Klavier in his innocence would never quite understand — that such a black desire could reforge a shattered friendship. Over the blazing inferno of their revenge, Simon and David reforged the sword of their friendship. The Latino nodded once at his friend and the younger Rainsford moved further up the platform, his back straight and his eyes fixed on the lever.

"David," Rafael spat venomously. "If you take one more fucking step, your family is going to burn."

David wasn't troubled by the threat. "Whatever, Rafe," he said glibly. "Would be a blessing more than anything. My son's a pain in the neck."

"You fucking bastard!"

Klavier thought he saw David smile when he reached the other side of the platform and jumped off it, landing beside the lever where the guard stumbled backwards, clearly staggered by the unconventionality of the proceedings. Quailing under Deston's warning glare, the man retreated.

"I have to protest," a voice said suddenly and, startled, Klavier turned to see the source of it: right at the back, silent up to this point, stood the forgotten doctor. "This is illegal!"

"In this room, I'm the one with the authority to say what's illegal and what ain't," Raoul drawled with a lazy smile. "And I say there ain't nothin' illegal about any of this."

"But—"

"Can it, gramps," Raoul cut him off.

"Look at him," Seren added, pointing at Deston and then at his own face, now covered in small cuts. "Is that somebody you want to argue with, mate?"

The doctor's mouth clamped shut.

"Rafael Ian Rainsford," Seren started, his tone formal and emotionless. "You were arrested on December the 2nd, 2023, tried and found guilty on Decemb—"

"You're going to pay for this," Rafael snapped into Deston's face.

"—on 1 count of murder in the first degree, 2 counts of grievous bodily ha—"

"Didn't you hear, Rafael?" Deston laughed maddeningly. "I'm a Gavinner. I can pay all the money you demand… though I don't think you need it where you're going."

"—of the attempted murder of several officials involved with the case surrounding—"

"_You're nothing but a fucking waste of space, David!"_ Rafael snarled. _"I should have strangled you at birth!"_

"Yeah, Rafe," David said pleasantly. "You told me all this the day you warned me only one of us could live." Though Rafael couldn't turn to see the gleam in David's eye, the mirthful irony of his words was loud and clear. "Guess you were right, brother."

"You'll never rest in peace, Dave," Rafael vowed, struggling against his bindings. "I can fucking promise you that!"

David laughed. "We both know that's the curse of our parentage, Rafe," he answered smoothly. "We were never meant to find peace."

"—tenced to death by hanging." Seren's lips pursed as he finished his declaration. "Hmm. I don't really fancy having people talk throughout my speech but—"

"Shut it, Aded," Deston commanded but Klavier was relieved to hear that some of the unreasonable insanity in his voice had ebbed away.

"Do you have any last words?" Raoul drawled, crossing his arms and staring up at Rafael stonily but the man wasn't listening — his body was thrashing powerfully against the handcuffs and the noose around his neck.

"I think he's a bit busy," Gale said deprecatingly.

"Does he need the toilet?" Simon added, deepening Rafael's degradation.

And then he stilled, his eyes turning on Gale and Simon with such monstrous intent that Klavier felt as though he'd been doused with icy water. "Irina's going to gut Lana like an animal."

Gale tried to keep her calm but the shudder that ripped through her was so violent that there was nothing she could do to cover it. Beside her, Simon was having just as much trouble concealing his disquiet; his black eyes were fixed intently ahead but the muscles in his neck were taut. Klavier felt his heart sink at the mention of Lana — threats aside, the last thing any of them wanted was for Simon to find out about his daughter from his mortal enemy.

"I have something to say," David intervened, seeing the dangerous turn of the conversation.

"Fuck off, David," Rafael snarled.

"Sure," David acceded calmly. "Right after you listen to me."

"I don't think he has any choice," Deston smirked. "His hands are tied back after all."

"I have something to say as well," Simon added and, as if he couldn't help himself, Rafael looked at him. "If that's alright, David?"

"Hey," David said nonchalantly. "Knock yourself out, man."

"Rot in hell, you son of a _bitch._"

"And I'll see you on the other side," Gale said with an uncharacteristically ominous smile. "As you so eloquently put it."

"And who am I to break tradition?" Kade chipped in casually, shrugging his large shoulders. His pause was portentous, filled with a silent promise that only Rafael seemed to understand. "I have enough information to tear Irina and her brothers apart." He took a step forward, his aura turning threatening for the first time. "And you know I _will_."

The expression on Rafael's face was intriguing; he looked as though he wasn't quite sure if he should scream or laugh. For the first time, his mask collapsed into shock and disbelief but it became clear a moment later, why: he collapsed into fits of hysterical, manic laughter, his voice rising in pitch until it filled the room.

"Oh, Irina!" he laughed, looking up at the ceiling. "My dear, sweet Irina, I beg you! Don't betray your father."

Klavier's eyes narrowed at the madness of the gesture yet Rafael didn't seem to be behaving out of character. It might have been easy to assume the last thread holding him to sanity had snapped but the amusement and mockery and pleasantness of his expression was back. He was staring at Deston now, who had remained entirely still up until now.

"Irina," he whispered, laughter in every word as he held Deston's gaze, "please don't forget me like Deston forgot Raina."

Another chill ran over them and Klavier knew that there wasn't much tolerance left in his friend. Panicked, he looked to Raoul, trying to tell him to get this over with but the Italian was equally alarmed and very much aware of their need to move swiftly.

"That's enough outta you, fucktard," he barked. "Seren!"

The Brit nodded curtly and glanced at David. "You ready, mate?"

David smirked just as Rafael's face turned ugly again. "I'm good and ready, Mr Adagio."

"_Don't you fucking dare, David!"_ Rafael howled, swinging around again but it was to no avail. _"Don't you fu_c_king dare!"_

David was unmoved as he waited on Seren's raised hand; it hung suspended in the air, while Rafael cursed into the limbo they had created. Klavier's tension steadily rose with every second and then he just wanted it over, wanted them all to be rid of him.

This man with his icy blue eyes, his faux-pleasant smile and his endless greed for power... He was the reason Raina had met her untimely demise, the reason Deston's dreams and ambitions had been left empty. Because of him, Lana would never be with Gale, Simon would not grow old with his lover and despite the peace he would find with his daughter, the guilt would remain like a lingering ache, a wound that would never heal.

To him, Kristoph had divulged their dark past, given the man too much control over them. Rafael had sought to turn Klavier against his own brother, turn them both into a twisted replica of himself and David.

He had ordered Tessa's death to save himself, uncaring of anyone's life just for the sake of a message. He had treated the woman like a disposable piece of paper.

And, the deepest wound he had tried to cause was by hurting Ema; Klavier saw her now, a deeply unsettled expression on her face and his heart turned over at the way she was subconsciously rubbing her mutilated wrist. He wanted to go over to her, wanted to envelop her in his arms and hide her, protect her, save her this ordeal but he knew he couldn't. She was as much in need of this closure as any of them.

With darkness swirling in sapphire eyes, Klavier turned his hateful gaze on Rafael, his thrashing growing more and more violent with each passing second.

"See how the fish squirms to the last," he murmured softly.

"You want to get down here, Des?" Seren asked, looking up at the agent.

"No," Deston said, crossing his arms and smiling. "I'm enjoying the view from up here."

"_David!"_ Rafael roared.

Finally, Seren's hand descended through the air, agonisingly slow. A dreamlike moment of unnerving nihilism hung on the atmosphere and David looked at Rafael with what might have been pity; his gray eyes swam with a moment of regret and sorrow. He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, express some emotion… but he didn't. The sadness hardened into blocks of ice and resignation and he steeled himself for the final moment. His hands tightened on the metal bar in his hand, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip.

"Goodbye, brother," he said softly.

Rafael's scream of rage drowned out the metallic grind as David pulled on the freedom in his hand, nullifying the sound of the trapdoor opening beneath Rafael's feet. It echoed around them like a haunting cry, deafening and piercing them with its fury, going on and on even as the rope stretched tight with the weight of his lifeless body. There was no more swinging. It hung motionless at last, the countdown over.

And in the silence that fell, they could still hear the ghost of Rafael's last scream.


	36. After The Fall

After The Fall

_His eyes flew open with alarming suddenness — Ema, who had been watching him, felt a shock course through her but she wasn't sure why. After all, this was... what she'd been waiting for, hadn't she?_

_He was blinking up at the ceiling, his eyes blank and glazed over with... something. His hands, until now placed firmly by his side, curled inwards and his fingers caught the white sheet in their grasp — Ema should have probably told him to relax, knew she should get someone but she was frozen with fascination._

_His head was turning now, turning towards the bedside table; one of the hands released the sheet and he reached out to something, surprising her. After all, he'd just woken up. She expected a question or two, maybe some demands, but there was no way she could have predicted this. Ema squinted to try and see what his fingers were grasping at but it had already been enveloped in his hand._

_He stirred. Ema's eyes flew to his face where the lacerations deepened as he hissed. She opened her mouth to tell him to relax but he pushed himself up on his hands, growling in pain as he did so._

"_Stop it," she commanded. "You need to rest."_

_He didn't listen. He was sitting up now, something she knew he shouldn't do because… She frowned when she found she was unable to remember why. It didn't matter anyway — she just knew it was bad for him to put strain on his muscles. He needed to stop._

"_Stop it!" she said more sternly this time but it had no effect. He wasn't even looking at her._

_Ema opened her mouth to say his name but found herself at a loss… She knew him, didn't she? She couldn't possibly be concerned about a mere stranger. But… why couldn't she remember his name? That was weird. It wasn't even as if his name was on the tip of her tongue. She just… didn't know._

_Her thoughts scattered as he swung his legs over the side of his bed, his fingers tightening around whatever he had in his hand. It didn't matter if she knew him or not — if he got up now, he would tear his wounds. Yes, that was it. It was coming back to her. He'd just had surgery and she knew he would rip his stitches open if he got up now._

"_Where are you going?" she cried._

_He didn't listen. What the hell was he doing, ignoring her?_

"_Hey!" she called with alarm as he pushed himself to his feet and hissed in pain, bending over to clutch at his abdomen. Ema swiped at his arm and stumbled back in horror when her hand went right through him._

_What the hell?_

_With the horrifying realisation that he couldn't see her came a gentle tug on her midsection and Ema was yanked backwards by an unseen force. The air whooshed past, her clothes blew around violently and in the growing shadows, Ema heard his scream of pain. The sound ripped at her heart and she cried out, fighting against the hand pulling her back…_

"_Let GO of me!" she yelled but the grip only tightened, the speed only increased until he was completely gone from her sight and she was left suspended in the air. In a box of starless night, Ema spun this way and that, screaming at it to take her back, that __**he**__ needed her…_

_And then, as if it had taken pity on her, the darkness faded into white light and she stumbled into groundless territory. Disorientated, she looked around and that's when she saw him: his form was doubled over with pain, his hand clutching at his abdomen and in between his fingers, she saw deep red stains. He collapsed against the wall, his breathing shallow and his eyes shut tight as if he was trying to calm himself._

"_What are you __**doing**__?" she screamed. "Where are you __**going**__?"_

_When his eyes flew open, she thought he could finally see and hear her but then he grit his teeth and pushed himself away from the wall and stumbled onwards, his breathing turning ragged from pain. Ema watched with her heart in her throat as he limped past her, completely oblivious to her presence, and called out to him desperately._

_She ran to stand before him, she screamed in his face till her voice was almost gone; she tore at his clothes and she clutched at his arm but he didn't even glance her way. He limped on, the blood dripping from his fingers, and she followed. _

_She followed and she cried._

.'.

It was abysmally late in the morning when Ema finally awoke. Her sprawled out frame on the big four-poster bed was an amusing sight to Klavier who'd been checking on her every hour, though she wasn't aware of it. She rolled over onto her back and blinked up at the ceiling, somewhat confused by the lingering emotion of sadness surging through her. The air stung her eyes and she touched them gingerly with the tips of her fingers, surprised to find them wet.

Why was she crying?

As soon as this question popped in her mind and she blinked, a million images flickered through her mind in an unsettling mix that were gone as soon as she opened her eyes again. Perplexed by this new experienced, Ema frowned and tried to remember the dream that had evoked these pictures but all she got was an overwhelming sense of sorrow. Knowing there was no use (and no sense) in trying to remember something that would make her sad, Ema shifted onto her side. What with everything that had gone on recently, it stood to reason she would dream negatively.

Ema focused her attention off everything and focused on her surroundings. Her mouth pressed together in an annoyed line when the first thing that registered were the damn birds twittering outside. Cursing them well into oblivion, she dragged herself into a sitting position and blinked. With a yawn, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and grumbled to herself, asking what manner of bird would be twittering at this infernal hour. Of course, when she turned to look at the clock on her bedside table, her mood deteriorated. It was almost noon.

"Ugh. I can't believe I—_ouch!_"

In the process of folding her legs, Ema jumped at the stab of pain in her thigh. Annoyed with herself, she spied the slight trickle of blood that escaped the wound there — it was one of the deeper injuries she'd sustained during her kidnapping. Having such a visible and painful reminder of those missing moments in her life was unsettling and Ema wiped at it angrily, hissing as her fingers irritated the healing skin around the gash. She waited to see if it would bleed again and when it didn't, she let out a heavy sigh.

"Get up," she muttered to herself.

In compliance, her legs swung over the side of the bed and she stood up, pausing for a moment to listen for any sound that indicated Klavier was nearby. When all she got was silence, Ema padded across the floor to the bathroom where she splashed her face with cold water, took a moment out to dab at the stain of blood on her leg and brushed her teeth. She focused her attention on the mirror, thinking she should cringe at the frightful sight of her hair and the haggard look of her face; the bruises and cuts were healing but still very much visible, reminding her of the one thing she was trying to ignore.

"Nope," she muttered casually. "Not going to think about it."

Her stomach growled, as if it knew that she needed a distraction. Grateful to it for the diversion, Ema splashed some more water over her face, patted it dry and left her bedroom. She was still dressed in her t-shirt and shorts but given that Klavier had seen her half-dead, she didn't care much about her appearance.

The house was silent as she padded down the grand staircase and for a moment she considered calling for Klavier but changed her mind when she realised he'd want to make her breakfast himself — he might be resting and she certainly didn't want to disturb him. After the last few days, he needed all the rest he could get.

Though he denied it, Ema had a feeling Klavier was going out of his way to act perfectly normal and she suspected that he was taking on her workload as well as his own. She was still on leave from work (given the repeated attempts on her life, they'd thought it only natural that she should take a few weeks off to recover) but that didn't mean she couldn't help them with other things — like finding Deston.

Since Rafael's execution almost a week ago, Deston had been missing. According to Seren, they'd tried all the places they thought he'd be, including his home, but they couldn't find him and if he was at home, he wasn't answering. His phone was off, he hadn't turned up to work in days and he hadn't contacted any of them. The whole thing was so out of character that it was all Ema could do to stop herself from ripping her hair out. Every time she thought of him (which was often), she remembered the way he had looked when he'd shot the glass down, the way he'd thrown Raoul and Seren back like they were nothing but rag dolls. The madness and fury that he'd exuded had shaken her to the core; never had she believed him capable of such anger.

And yet somehow, it made sense, didn't it? For someone who was always laid back and laughing, he must be hiding a deep and passionate nature. It would take a lot to anger a man like that and when someone managed…

Well, she'd seen what it turned him into, hadn't she?

"—know Ema was—"

Ema snapped out of her thoughts when she heard her name dropped amid multiple voices, their inaudible conversation floating on the air to her left. With a frown, she turned to follow it but froze when she got close enough to hear who it was and what they were saying.

"—_know_ why Irina would let Ema go if she really wants to kill her?" Raoul sounded irritated.

Ema inched closer to the door, taking care to be as stealthy as possible. She didn't want them to know she was listening because she had a funny feeling they'd clam up and pretend they'd been talking about what to make her for breakfast.

"I don't know but I don't think the weirdo was chattin' it, Ray," Seren returned. "Have you considered that maybe Ema was meant to relay a message to us but she forgot?"

Raoul snorted. "And why did she forget? The bastards overdosed her with rohypnol!"

"You said Sloan's an idiot," Seren argued. "Maybe it was a mistake."

"He has a point," Klavier said suddenly, surprising Ema. "I have come to learn enough of Rafael's nature to understand that he would not lie about something like this."

"Have you asked Ema if she remembers anything?" Raoul asked.

"Nein," Klavier sighed. "I do not wish to remind her."

"That's fair enough," Seren allowed. "If there was a message, I don't reckon we need to bust our arses trying to guess what it is."

Ema felt her stomach tighten into a million knots. Her fingers subconsciously touched the healing injuries on her face and she felt a wave of sickness at her inability to remember how it had happened. It crawled through her blood stream, seeping into the thin layers of her skin. That her body and mind had forsaken her, that it refused to obey her desire to _remember _was frightening — it was almost as if her kidnappers had turned her own body against her.

"Does the memory not eventually return after a rohypnol overdose?" Klavier asked and Ema forced herself to focus on his voice.

"It does," Seren said. "But it can take time which, frankly speaking, we don't have."

"We can station an army around Ema," Raoul said, "but I got a feeling they'd find a way around it."

"It's the nature of these crime rings," Seren added. "Their existence depends on slipping through the cracks."

"He obviously had someone check us out," Raoul spat venomously. "The bastard knew about Maralie."

"I had him on lockdown," Klavier mused, rejoining the conversation. "I do not understand how he could have managed this when he was..." There was a pause and then, "Ah."

"He had the guards, didn't he?" Raoul said, apparently voicing what had just occurred to Klavier. "Obviously some fucker slipped in."

Ema bit her lip when she heard Klavier sigh heavily.

"We're gonna need Lowes and Gale both. Richards alone ain't enough," Raoul said. "They understood Rainsford. Sounds like this Irina chick is daddy's little girl. Ain't no doubt she's gonna be just as fucked up."

There was a pause in which Ema pulled back a little, worried that they knew she was there (a paranoia she knew arose only from guilt) but there were no footsteps. Instead, she thought she heard a click, some rattling and then another, louder click.

"Do you have to smoke that now?" Seren complained.

"Get your viridian panties outta your ass, Aded," Raoul said.

"That stuff stinks."

"Well deal with it," Raoul retorted. "I need this."

"I thought you were going to quit?" Seren said though it was more of a reminder than a question.

"Here's an idea," Raoul said sarcastically. "You quit whinin' and I'll quit smokin'."

Ema rubbed her lips thoughtfully, half-surprised and half-amused. She'd had no idea that Raoul smoked — it certainly explained why he carried that Gavinner-branded lighter around. She made a mental note to tell him what smoking did to the human body and if (when) that didn't work, she would force him to stop.

"I am considering appealing Simon's case to the court," Klavier said suddenly, catching her attention.

"Thought you might," Seren said. "It should be pretty easy now what with the evidence in his favour."

"Yeah," agreed Raoul. "Richards is more than willin' to prove his innocence now. He's paid for his part in the kidnapping."

"The only problem I have," Klavier continued, "is that I am uncertain of what he might do to himself."

"I don't think he'll do anything like that," Seren reassured him.

"Doesn't the dude have a daughter?" Raoul enquired.

"Ja." Klavier sighed heavily again. "You are right of course. All I have to do is tell him about Lana and I am certain he will fight tooth and nail to be here for her."

"When are you going to tell him?"

"I do not think it my place," Klavier said. "I think I will have Gale inform him."

"You need'a move as quickly as possible," Raoul said. Ema heard him exhale in a manner highly reminiscent of a smoker and just then she smelt the first wave of smoke as it drifted out into the hallway.

"If Rafael knew about the girl, his daughter will as well," Seren said. "It just seems stupid to put it off any longer."

"Man's got a right to know," Raoul said, his voice quiet.

Silence fell again, punctuated only by Raoul's rhythmic exhaling which, after a while, also stopped. Ema stood there for what felt like forever, waiting for them to talk again and when they did, she tensed.

"Any luck on Des?" Seren asked.

Another pause. Then—

"Nein. But I am certain he is at his beach house. The last two times I have visited it, his lights have been on – I am assuming they were coming from his television. He is not answering, however."

Raoul let out a breath of ragged frustration. "Fuckin' hell, man," he snapped. "What the hell's he hidin' from us for?"

"You know Deston," Seren said quietly.

There was a pause in which they all seemed to understand exactly what Seren meant and Ema could only guess.

"You tried takin' Ema to talk to him?" Raoul asked. "He's got a soft spot for her."

She edged closer to the door at the sound of her name.

"Ja," Klavier said wearily. "The idea has crossed my mind."

"Ema's not feeling too great herself," Seren said. "I don't think we should stress her out with this."

"Ya think she ain't stressed out already?"

"I know, Ray," Seren sighed. "But you know what I mean."

"Yeah."

Ema waited for them to say something but it appeared the boys had fallen into their thoughts again. Several minutes passed in which she heard the sound of Raoul's lighter clicking again, followed by a deep exhaling but she was barely paying attention — her mind was whirring.

It was true, she had definitely developed a special friendship with Deston — he had saved her life again and again after all — and though she was nowhere near arrogant enough to assume that she could get through to him where the others couldn't, Ema knew it was her duty to at least try.

However, before she could make her presence known, Klavier spoke again, stopping her in her tracks.

"I am worried for Ema."

Her heart sank at the weariness and anxiety of his tone — she didn't want to be a burden on him.

"I know, mate," Seren said with a heavy sigh. "We all are."

"I want to take her away from here," Klavier continued. "Just for a couple of weeks. She needs the time away and there is too much danger here."

"Take her," Seren encouraged. "That's a really good idea actually."

"I do not know how she will react," Klavier said after a pause. "Our relationship is not public and I do not know if she will be ready for a trip away with me when there is a high risk of exposure."

"I think Ema's a little bit beyond that, K," Seren said.

"She has asked me to take things slow—"

"Listen, Klavier," Raoul cut in. "You two don't exactly have a normal relationship. I see the way you look at her and the way she looks at you. She's ready to take that step."

"I am not so sure," Klavier said a little uncertainly and surprisingly, Ema found this upsetting. She wanted Klavier to be confident when it came to her and this insecurity really tugged at her heart strings.

_Does this mean I am ready and willing to go away with him?_

She waited for the argument against this idea to manifest itself but her inner voice of reason was silent.

Ema blinked.

_Wow. I am ready._

"You both need the time away, Klavier," Raoul said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

"Don't worry about Deston," Seren reassured him. "We'll take care of him."

There was another moment of silence and then someone let out a groan of frustration but who it was, Ema couldn't make out.

"Everythin's a fuckin' mess!" Raoul snapped. "This ring is gunnin' for Ema, Tessa almost died and even though the dick is dead, he's set something off and we ain't got any idea what!"

"We'll get 'em," Seren said firmly. "We just need to keep our heads on straight."

"Ain't ever wanted to hit a chick but I swear to _God_, when I get my hands on this bitch…"

There was another pause but this time Ema didn't stick around — she knew this silence was permanent. Without a sound, the detective rounded on the spot and walked away.

.'.

When Ema returned to the same room, they were all still there and their eyes widened at the sight of the tray in her hands. She ignored the momentarily shocked silence while setting it down and glared at Raoul, whose heavily booted foot was resting on the frame of the table.

"Buffoon."

Raoul's eyebrow quirked and he shifted his foot from the table to over his thigh. Seren laughed and Klavier, who'd been watching with a hint of apprehension, smiled. Satisfied that her demand for appropriate decorum was met, Ema set about pouring the relevant drinks for all of them — over the past couple of days, she'd learnt their beverage of choice; tea for Klavier and Seren (she figured it was a European thing) and coffee for Raoul. He'd asked for beer one morning and Ema's outrage (and subsequent rant) had him hastily retracting that request. He hadn't asked for anything more adventurous than raw coffee since.

"When did you wake up, Ema?" Klavier asked.

Ema paused a moment to hand Seren his tea and then glanced at Raoul who was already reaching out for his coffee. Seeing her withering glare, the red-head leaned back, throwing his hands up as if in surrender and laughed.

"Whoa, chick!" he exclaimed. "Chill."

"I woke up a bit ago," Ema said, turning to Klavier then who was, much to her exasperation, examining her intently. Ever since the execution, Klavier had taken it upon himself to watching her like a hawk every time she was in the immediate vicinity. Whatever it was that made him so paranoid – the threats Rafael had thrown at her or the fact that she was still recovering – it was really beginning to grow wearisome.

Ema suppressed a frown while pouring the coffee into the black mug. She knew it was because he cared that he was so concerned but it was precisely _because_ of this that it lay so heavily on her shoulders; she didn't want him worrying about her all the time. He had enough on his plate as it was. Deston's sudden blockade was a lot more important.

"Here," Ema said, picking up the mug and handing it to Raoul. "Hope you choke on it."

"Love you too, babe," Raoul said casually, taking it and sniffing at it appreciatively (though Ema had previously stated it was his way of trying to ascertain if she'd poisoned it — a wise move).

"Here, Klavier," she said, holding his tea out to him.

But Klavier surprised her by getting up from his seat and coming to sit by her; her eyes widened when he took the cup from her hand and set it down on the table before them and pulled her into a half hug, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

"How many times must I remind you? You should not be doing this for us, Ema," he chided gently. "You are meant to rest."

Heat rose to her cheeks and she was almost afraid to look at Raoul and Seren; they'd taken to teasing her more often these days as Klavier's affection had become more and more blatant. She still wasn't used to it (their teasing certainly didn't help her get accustomed to it) but she was hoping time would soon remedy that.

Now however, the boys remained astonishingly quiet; Seren was even looking away. Not Raoul though – he was staring at them boldly and Ema threw him another scowl that did absolutely nothing for his shamelessness.

"What're you doin' up so early anyway?" he said, running a finger over the silver hoop in his ear.

"Early?" Ema echoed, scowling. "It's almost midday!"

"You're on holiday," Raoul reminded her. "And that means sleeping in, lazing about and ordering your boyfriend to do whatever naughty things you wan—"

Before Ema could react, Seren's hand shot out and caught him around the head, making the aristocrat spill some of the coffee in his lap. The dark liquid was apparently too warm for his leather-clad legs because he leapt up, cursing as only he could, before he turned on Seren who had resumed his relaxed pose and was drinking his tea as if nothing had happened.

"Mother of—!" Raoul glared down at his pants before shooting a deadly look at Seren. "What the fuck was that for?"

Ema watched with wide-eyed surprise as Seren slowly set the tea down on the table and reclined into the sofa. He crossed one leg over the other and draped an arm across the back before shaking his head sombrely and sighing.

"You can't talk to Ema like that, mate," Seren said.

The detective bit on her tongue to suppress a laugh: Raoul looked positively murderous.

"Listen, you British prick," Raoul snapped, pointing at Seren. "I don't care how they do it over—"

"Before you start on the British thing, stop," Seren interrupted. "There are foul-mouths over there too. I'm just saying, she's Klavier's girl. You have to show her some respect now."

"You want to see some respect?" Raoul demanded.

Seren raised an eyebrow, entirely unfazed by the threatening sound of Raoul's voice. "That _would_ be nice."

"How about I deliver some well-earned respect to your nose?"

Ema's amusement, which had been rising with each passing second threatened to erupt; there was something about the way Raoul stood there, his leather pants dripping with coffee, one hand still clutching the black mug and the menacing look on his handsome face that rang of comedy.

"Chillax, mate," Seren said casually. "I didn't insult your family honour. Just told you to have some manners."

Ema clapped a hand over her mouth; no matter how much she argued with Raoul, she didn't think she'd want to mock him when he was so obviously annoyed. He'd turn all of that aggravation on her and would definitely succeed in dragging her into that hole of frustration with him.

Suddenly, Raoul raised the cup of coffee and Ema knew exactly what he was going to do: she was instantly on her feet, pointing at him warningly.

"Raoul Adagio, if you fling that at him, I'll tear your arm off!"

Raoul looked at her in some surprise before his face settled back into annoyance. After one last glance at Seren's smiling face, he growled, "Fuck it, man."

With a great huff, he slammed the cup on the table and stalked off, grumbling to himself (the curses emphasised greatly for their benefit). Ema smirked to herself, finding his momentary irritation very comforting – after all, he constantly went out of his way to wind her up as much as he could. With a widening grin, the detective glanced at Klavier who was laughing heartily.

"Revenge is sweet, eh, Ema?" Seren said with a perfect grin and Ema let out a little laugh.

Klavier's fingers wrapped around her wrist and Ema found herself being gently pulled back into the small space next to him. Without a word of protest, she fell into it and smiled at him in reassurance; he was staring at her affectionately and she remembered the plans he'd voiced earlier. Looking at him now, she could never have guessed that he was feeling insecure about her feelings for him. It was a reminder of his ability to mask his emotions when he needed to — it was obvious he'd learnt to control how much his face gave away after all those years in the spotlight and in the courtroom.

It was a positive thing, she supposed, but she wondered why it still felt as though he exercised that with her. That possibility bothered her — she wanted him to be open with her like he'd said he would be. Ema didn't doubt him because she knew that he would never have promised her something he couldn't uphold. Ema wasn't sure how she was so certain of this fact but something about him had become very obvious in the last few months: he would never sink so low as to deceive anyone. She knew she could count on him.

The only thing Ema wanted was for him to know he could do the same.

"I don't want to interrupt a tender moment and all that but I kind of wanted to talk to you guys about something."

Seren's voice cut into her thoughts with such abruptness that she jumped as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. Her head snapped to the Gavinner, her muscles in knots, but then she saw that he was smiling at her without a hint of mockery and the tension instantly evaporated. Seren lifted the tea off the table and took a sip, nodding at her approvingly to show his appreciation just like he'd been doing for the past week.

Ema took a moment to consider the quietest Gavinner. Her initial impression of Seren had been that he was just as open and witty as the rest of them and his claim that he disliked the limelight had just been a joke. However, the time she'd spent around the Gavinners in recent weeks had taught her that that, in fact, was true — he was quiet (though when he decided to join in the teasing, he was almost as bad as the rest) and he was a true gentleman. She'd lost count of the number of many times he'd snapped at someone (usually Raoul) for not minding his language around Ema.

What's more, he'd taken to talking about Maralie more and more — beneath the admiration he often verbalised, she sensed a deep anxiousness. He was falling for her hard and with it came the heavy responsibility of worrying about her — something that Ema both found endearing and upsetting. The former because Seren's intensely kind nature was coming through and the latter because of the circumstances under which his relationship with Mara was evolving. Though having had no time to actually find Mara and talk to her, Ema doubted Seren had told her about the threats Rafael had made; he wasn't the type to thrust that sort of information on a woman. Ema might have been worried by this almost sexist behaviour — after all, women could take care of themselves — and she would have made him very much aware of her displeasure if it wasn't for the fact that there was absolutely no way that Seren would disrespect any woman like that. His considerate and compassionate character was so blatant that Ema could only be touched.

It wasn't that he'd gone out of his way to ensure she wasn't crying or that he was there to hand her the box of tissues when and if she did. It was that when she was sitting around, deep in dark thoughts, Seren seemed to guess exactly what was on her mind without her having to say anything about it. It was that he slowly slid into a seat next to her and started whining about his silly fan problems (often making her laugh) or asking for ways to make Mara fall as hopelessly in love with him as he was with her. It was the little things he did, taking the focus off anything that was remotely serious without turning into a downright pain in the ass like a certain red-head she knew. It was that he made her feel better without seeming like he'd put any effort into it at all.

"Ema?"

Her head snapped up. Seren was searching her expression and she instantly smiled, hoping the action would negate any outward show of emotion. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Klavier's eyes fixed on her face too and she suppressed a sigh of exasperation.

"Yes?" she said.

"What you thinking?"

Ema's lips pursed as she thought of a way to suggest what she'd thought of while she'd made their drinks. How could she reveal what she had in mind without making it obvious that she'd been eavesdropping on their conversation? She couldn't just bring it up randomly — they were all highly intelligent fops and they'd see through her facade immediately.

With a tired look that she had no trouble conjuring, Ema looked at Klavier. "Would you guys stop fussing? You're acting like I'm some damsel in distress that's going to faint any second. In case you don't remember, I'm a _detective_."

Klavier cracked a smile. "I have not forgotten."

"Then you should know I'm not scared. It's my _job_ to deal with freaks like that."

Seren sighed. "Ema, it's admirable that you—"

"It's not admirable," Ema interrupted sharply. "It's the truth." There was a short silence and both Gavinners glanced at each other. Ema, however, didn't give them a chance to argue. "I didn't come here to tell you I'm not scared," she stated bluntly. "I came to talk about what we're going to do next."

"I like that – a woman of action."

They all turned towards the sound of that drawling voice: Raoul entered the room, swiping at his pants and flashing a smile at Ema.

"Ema: our resident tigress."

Ema just rolled her eyes.

"_Liebling_," Klavier started, his voice wary. "I do not think you should be worrying about what to do next. You need time to recover from everything that has happened the past two weeks."

"That's all really sweet and everything," Ema said dryly, "but I doubt _Fräulein Irina_ is going to give me time."

"You don't needa worry about her, babe," Raoul said casually, falling into the sofa beside her. "We're gonna find the bitch."

"Uh huh." Ema bit her lip thoughtfully. "Tell me something, boys: exactly _how_ are you going to find her?"

A sharply ironic silence met her question in which they all glanced at one another again. Klavier sighed heavily and squeezed her shoulder while Raoul turned to face her directly. However, before he could speak to her, Seren cut in, surprising her.

"I know that it seems pretty impossible, Ema," he said quietly, swirling the tea around in his cup. "But this is our job. Specifically mine and Raoul's."

Ema frowned but forced herself to stay silent as he set the cup down and stood up, apparently overcome with restlessness. Seren walked to stand at the window where he looked out, his voice dropping to a murmur.

"Your involvement isn't even needed — nor Klavier's. You should let us do our jobs. Focus on getting better."

Her eyes narrowed instantly, fixing themselves on his back – she wanted to kick him right under that spot where his hands were entwined. "I'd be more than happy to grant you that request fop-face," she started fiercely, "if it wasn't for the fact that I'm kind of involved."

Seren turned around with a sigh and looked at her kindly. "I know, love," he said gently and Ema's eyes popped at the endearment, her annoyance temporarily forgotten. Beside her, Klavier laughed out loud, his hand squeezing hers comfortingly.

"Do not be alarmed, Ema," he said, drawing her attention to his humorous eyes. "It is common among the British to address each other thus."

"They're all a bunch'a freaks," Raoul said casually, waving at Seren. "You'll get used to him."

Ema turned back to Seren again, somewhat calmer. "Odd. I've never heard you use it before."

Seren smiled, crossing his arms and lounging against the wall. "That's because I haven't — around you. I figured you might flip out," he said with a small laugh. "But I realise now that you're going to be around a lot longer."

Ema glanced at Klavier then, her heart skipping a beat at the implication behind the words; he was staring at her with a gentle look but behind the twinkle of his ever-smiling eyes, she saw the question that had arisen in her own mind: how long was 'longer'?

It was true that she felt something for him she'd never even dreamt of feeling, let alone for someone like him — but that didn't mean he felt as strongly as she did. For Ema, love had always been an emotion far out of her reach and so she'd never really given it a thought. She had known, however, that whoever (if ever) she loved would be her first and her last and though Lana had chastised her for such a restrictive principle, Ema had not been able to change it. She only believed in loving one person for the rest of her life. True enough, it was difficult to distinguish between infatuation and true love but she knew that when it was true love it would hit her like a freight train — she would just know.

And she knew.

The fact that when she looked into his eyes, like she was now, she didn't want to swoon was the first sign; all she wanted was to keep staring. That when he touched her hand, like he was now, it wasn't as though she'd been burnt but, rather, been struck by lightning was the second sign; she revelled in the energy that rushed through her. And that, when he said her name, it was as though her soul was waking, responding to a siren call… that was the third sign.

They were endless, these shows of a deeper emotion and she knew that anyone could argue they didn't differ from infatuation but she knew they did and she knew how and it was in this one simple but devastating fact: she wanted to live for him and she wanted to die for him.

But simply because she wanted to give him the rest of her life didn't mean he wanted to do the same, Ema realised. Simply because her own beliefs on love were so intense and committed didn't mean he believed in the same. What made it worse was who and what he was — a rock-star could not reach the age of 24 without having had some relationships and she'd always had a sneaking suspicion that it was because people got used to being with so many different partners that they found it so easy to get bored of someone and 'fall out of love'. Again, Lana had told her not to be so ridiculous (no doubt stung as she had had multiple boyfriends in _her_ life).

But even had Ema decided to give people that benefit of the doubt, how could she expect Klavier to stay by her? What did she have to offer to someone who already had everything in his life? Klavier was young and handsome, successful and rich. He didn't lack for friends and, as Ema remembered the fans that trailed after him at every crime scene, he certainly didn't lack for women. She was certain he would move on. He would see that there was nothing but stupidity and nerdiness to all of her actions and then he would leave her.

And suddenly, the large, tanned hand resting over hers felt heavier than it ever had before.

Ema abruptly turned to Seren and then Raoul. "I know what you're all trying to do," she said in a steady tone. "And I appreciate it."

"I sense a 'but'," Raoul said.

"_But_," Ema echoed, ignoring his guffaw, "I don't have the ability to sit back and let someone else handle my problems. I'm not going to leave this alone so you might as well accept the fact that I'm going to be a part of this."

Raoul stirred, leaning forward and running his hands through his hair. "That sounds fair enough to me, girl."

Seren was staring at her intently. "Okay," he said after a moment and Ema was surprised at how quickly he'd acceded to her request. "One condition though."

Ema's eyebrow quirked. "Here I was thinking you're the swe—never mind," she amended hastily when she realised where a comment like that would get her. She may have thought Seren was the sweetest Gavinner but with Raoul present, she would live to regret the day she voiced that thought. "What condition?"

"It's nothing major," Seren said casually. "You just have to promise us—" he waved at the Gavinners in the room "—that you won't do anything to put yourself in danger."

"Why would I do something like that?" Ema said, weaving her way around the promise. "I don't particularly have suicidal tendencies."

Seren wasn't fooled — and neither was Klavier. "Your word, Ema," the prosecutor said, lacing his fingers through hers.

Ema glanced down at their entwined hands where they rested on his leg and felt her spine grow stiff — given the insecure direction of her thoughts a few moments ago, she didn't think she had the courage to look him in the eye. Yet his fingers were increasing their grip on hers and though they weren't causing her any discomfort, his hold was strong.

"Ya won't get away with word games, chick," Raoul drawled, thankfully breaking the spell Klavier's touch had cast; Ema turned to the red-head where he was lounging into the space beside her, a serious look on his face. "You might as well just get this over with."

"Oh come on!" she wailed, turning to Seren. "I can't promise something like that because then I'll have to stop doing so many other things that are necessary to life!"

Seren's mouth twitched. "Such as?"

"Picking up a knife, crossing a road — that's dangerous but you can't stop doing it, can you?" Ema exclaimed, glancing between Raoul and Seren, both of whom were openly grinning now. "It's not funny! I could accidentally stab myself! I could get run over!"

"But you won't," Raoul stated. "Because you ain't gonna be aimin' that knife at yourself. And when you cross the road, you'll look right and left. That's the point."

"You're not going to be reckless with your life," Seren added. "That's the crux of the promise."

Ema glared at the two Gavinners but then she felt another squeeze on her hand and her patience exploded. "Oh fine!" she snapped. "I promise!"

"You promise… what?" Seren prompted and she was sure he was only doing it to goad her now. She mentally rescinded her impression of him — he was a fop too.

"I promise not to do anything dangerous," she said moodily, wrenching her hand out of Klavier's grasp and crossing her arms.

"Thanks, darling," Seren said, satisfaction colouring his voice.

"Hmph," was her response as she fell back against the sofa, a pout on her face. Beside her, Raoul laughed and mussed her hair and Ema's irritation released in a smack to his head. "Get away from me, you damn fop!"

However, the red-head stayed firmly in place. Seren picked up his tea again and settled into a chair, clearly calm now that he'd extracted the promise from Ema who was still sulking in her little space between Klavier and Raoul. When the former took her hand again, however, she stiffened again, suddenly wishing she could just tell him to stop without offending him. She knew it was unfair, knew that she was being stupid, but now that the insecurity had resurfaced, it was difficult to control it.

"Ema."

She turned to Klavier slowly, avoiding his gaze and keeping her eyes fixed on the collar of his shirt but she could see him looking at her intently out of the corner of her eye.

"I…"

He paused then and Ema was so entirely surprised by his uncharacteristic hesitation that her eyes flew up to meet his; he looked apprehensive. She looked at Raoul and Seren to see if they were as taken aback as she was but they were both looking away, feigning disinterest, and her apprehension increased.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. Her own doubts were temporarily forgotten as she searched his face for the answer to her question; what had him so clearly nervous? Thoughts of Tessa and Daryan, of Deston and Simon crossed her mind and her heart sank. What could have happened now?

"We think," Seren intervened, clearly unable to take the dense silence, "that—"

"I will ask her, Seren," Klavier interrupted, his tone not unkind, and the other Gavinner silenced with a nod of the head. Klavier turned back to her and the anxiousness in his face was now mixed with a steely determination. "Ema, I have a question to ask you and I do not want you to answer it due to any obligation or duty. Your answer should sit with you comfortably."

"Okay…" Ema answered with a nervous flutter in her stomach.

"There is too much danger here," Klavier continued gravely. "In the immediate aftermath of Rafael's death, I believe the danger to all of us is great but to you, even greater."

"What are you trying to say?" she said slowly.

"We — I think it would be a good idea if you got out of the country for a while," Klavier said and paused — there was a momentary shuttering in his eyes and then he sighed. "With me."

Ema suddenly understood everything and she almost laughed — out of exasperation, out of relief and out of joy. She'd expected something bad and instead all she'd got was a negation of her fears: Klavier was anxious because he thought she didn't want to go anywhere with him. In light of her thoughts, the unease in his eyes comforted her. If he was willing to go away — and she knew it was his idea because she'd heard him say it first — that meant he was serious about her and if he was serious about her then she didn't have as much to fear as she thought she did…

Right?

_Look at him! He looks like he's stopped breathing! Of course he's serious about you._

Klavier's gaze was so thoroughly ill at ease and there was such a tight expectation in his handsome features that Ema couldn't hold back the smile that escaped her.

"You fop," she sighed. "You had me worried it was something really bad."

"You'll go?" Raoul said from behind her and the surprise in his voice grated on her nerves: hadn't he been the one to encourage Klavier with the reassurance that they'd reached this step in their relationship?

"Well, you said it yourself," Ema said casually. "I'm on holiday. Why not get out of the country for a while?"

When she saw relief smooth away the tension on her boyfriend's face, the knot in her own stomach unravelled. If Klavier could have been so worried about her refusing his offer, it meant that he wasn't just in it for 'the moment'.

_Didn't it?_

There was no time for the doubt to regain hold on her mind because Klavier wrapped his arm around her shoulders then and hugged her lightly, laughing in her ear. "I will make the arrangements. Any particular place you would like to visit?"

"The UK," Seren suggested before Ema could get a word out.

"There's ain't anythin' worth lookin' at over there," Raoul interjected. "Head on down to Italy. You can stay at my place — that should be enough to keep you occupied for a while."

Ema frowned. "Why?"

"Because he's a Marquis," Seren said, clearly unaffected by Raoul's rebuff of his country. "You'd be staying in the _Palazzo Adagio_."

Ema felt a surge of horror as she turned on Raoul. "Do _not_ tell me you have a palace."

"I won't," Raoul said casually but smirked when Ema gasped.

"It is not technically a palace," Klavier said, amused. "It is grand, however, and deeply steeped in history."

"He just calls it the Adagio Palace 'cause he's a pompous old prat," Seren explained. "He's an aristocrat but the Marquis thing is more a hereditary novelty than an actual, influential title."

"What do you mean?" Ema said curiously.

"Ray's just basically really wealthy and has the title of an aristocrat but he doesn't rule over any land like a general marquis would," Seren answered. "He's just got lots of land a nice place courtesy of the wealth he's earned himself. The place belonged to his ancestors but if he didn't have the dosh, he wouldn't be able to maintain the property, let alone buy it back from the government — which is what he did."

"So he just throws the title around to be impressive?" Ema said.

"Yo!" Raoul cut in, laughing. "Hang on a freakin' minute! I'm a Gavinner. I don't need'a throw anythin' around to be impressive."

"Europe is littered with unknown aristocrats," Klavier added. "Many of them are just middle class people with average wealth."

"Really?" Ema said, intrigued. "How odd."

"It's true," Seren confirmed.

"So he's really just royalty in his own mind?" Ema smirked.

"Pretty much."

"Dude, I'm already pissed at you for caffeinating my pants," Raoul said with a glare at Seren. "Quit pushin' my buttons."

"What'd I do?" the keyboardist said innocently.

"I'll show you what you—"

"Take a chill pill, mate," Seren laughed, his eyes running the length of Raoul's advancing form.

"Achtung!" Ema turned to see Klavier laughing as well. "You know he is always trying to annoy you, Raoul. Do not rise to the bait."

Ema looked at Seren curiously; Klavier was right, the green-clad Gavinner always seemed to be poking at Raoul for something and the Italian responded to his jabs more than anyone else's. She decided there and then that she would force Seren to tell her his secret — she needed a way to repay Raoul for the way he consistently needled her.

_The fop._

"You guys going down to Italy then?" Seren asked.

"Sure," Raoul said before either Ema or Klavier could say a word. He sank back into the seat to her left. "But not this time."

"Aren't you a good mate," Seren laughed.

"It's because I'm a good _mate_ that I'm not gonna let 'em do something that stupid," Raoul said seriously.

Ema frowned, turning to Klavier. "What...?"

The blond was looking grave; he appeared to have understood exactly what Raoul was talking about.

"It's one of the first places they'll look," the Italian said quietly. He moved forward until his elbows were resting on his knees and he was looking past Ema, right at Klavier. "I think it's best if you decide on the spot. Don't trust anyone."

Ema felt her stomach shrink at those words — did this mean she couldn't trust anyone anymore? Did this mean having to look over her shoulder at every turn?

And, most important of all, she realised as she turned to look at Klavier as well, did this mean she was putting them all in danger? Her sister, her friends… was she putting them all in harm's way?

She hadn't seen Lana much up until this week. It was when she'd walked into Klavier's home, frowning for all she was worth, that Ema had leapt into her arms. Her sister had stared at her aghast, her brown eyes wide with shock as she took in all of Ema's bruises, and it had been several moments before she could even talk.

But when she did, Ema had almost winced.

"What the hell happened to you, Ema?" she'd cried, sweeping her face with protective fingers.

"I've had a rough month," Ema had replied with a sheepish smile, earning her a scary glare from Lana.

"I left you alone because I thought you wouldn't want me in your face all the time! I thought you could take care of yourself!"

"I _can_ take care of myself, Sis," Ema had protested.

"Sit down," was the command. "Tell me everything."

And so, for the first time in her life, Ema had looked her sister in the eye and lied to her.

She started off honestly enough; she told Lana all about Deston's desire to trigger Klavier's jealousy off, his attempts to make him do something about it and the resultant relationship she found herself in. She convinced Lana that she was happy and that Klavier was a good man and it was in her attempts to prove this fact that she told her about Rafael's attempt (singular) to kill her and Klavier's even greater attempts to keep her safe.

That's when the lying had begun — she'd told her the first (and real attempt Rafael had made in her apartment) had actually been the Cadaverinis since she'd been the one to question one of their own. The most recent attempt (that had resulted in the bruises Lana had been unable to stop staring at) was Rafael's doing, a desperate last go at hurting them all. She didn't mention that her kidnapping had left her with a blank in her memory nor that Irina even existed, let alone that she was after her blood.

Ema had had no idea how she'd managed to keep a straight face as she reassured Lana that the danger was over and that she was staying with Klavier because he had insisted on taking care of her. When Lana continued to scrutinise her, Ema had feared her sister had seen through her lies but then the older Skye had simply scolded her for keeping her uninformed of all the chaos before beginning to self-deprecate for not having checked up on Ema enough. The sight of Lana, who had already given up so much for her, cursing herself for neglect had almost pushed Ema to tears with guilt.

Klavier had comforted her afterwards, neither chastising nor encouraging her choice. His quiet acceptance and support had taken some of the sting away. She knew he would support her no matter what she chose to reveal or hide from Lana. Her sister had visited her several times over the past few days and there had been numerous close-calls when Lana mentioned something to Klavier whose eyes flickered to Ema in confusion because she'd forgotten to tell him a part of the revised version. However, he seemed to understand her panicked look because he looked back to Lana as if nothing was out of place and smoothly confirmed it. She knew how much he hated lies and deception yet not once had he looked at her in displeasure nor uttered a word of admonition. His presence had been strong and silent and she'd felt it with all her being.

And impossible though it seemed, Ema loved him all the more for it.

Klavier hovered over her protectively but he never made it obvious; when she was with Lana, he would appear in the doorway to greet Lana and then he would be gone, coming back every so often for no apparent reason. She could only assume that he wanted to make sure she was never left alone — whenever Lana left, Klavier was sure to join her and keep her company in whatever way suited his — and her — mood. Sometimes he teased, sometimes he talked to her, sometimes he just held her and sometimes he did all three.

And since she was a marked woman, Ema did nothing but bask in the memories he was creating for her. She did all she could to get as involved in this time with him as she could because she had no idea how much of it she had left — and she knew the same thought crossed his mind every time he randomly crushed her to his chest and dropped a kiss to her head. Those moments showed her his fear and desperation and the guilt hit her again. If something happened to her, how would he take it?

So she tried to tell herself that she would shower him with all her affection; that way, if anything ever happened to her, he would have something to hold on to. She'd be damned if she left him with any sort of negative memory.

She wouldn't echo Raina's mistake.

"Ema?"

His voice shocked her out of the sea of thoughts she'd been swimming in; Klavier was frowning at her in apprehension and she looked around at Raoul and Seren to see what she'd missed. They were both looking at her with a mix of curiosity and anxiousness.

"What?"

"You winced?" Klavier said.

_Crap._

"Okay, listen," she said assertively, ignoring his question. "I agree to go away for a while although this is _not_ me running. Don't think you're getting rid of me." She turned accusing eyes on Raoul.

"Hey, I ain't plotting against you any more than these two are."

"Ema," Seren said, drawing her attention. "We're not trying to get rid of you. We just want you to heal for a while and that's safest done in another country. These people are extremely dangerous. Considering how pissed off they must be right now—"

"I'm not scared of them," she cut in bravely. Klavier's arm crept around her waist in a protective gesture.

"We know," came the reply from three different voices.

Ema scowled.

"As I was _saying,_" she went on, ignoring their simultaneous smirks, "I'll go — but on one condition."

She felt Klavier go stiff beside her and barely held back the smile at his unnecessary reaction. "Condition?"

"Yes," she said.

"What condition?" Seren asked with a frown.

"I want to see Deston before we go," Ema said, examining their reactions.

Seren's expression became cautious and Raoul leaned back slowly, his green eyes intently fixed on hers. Klavier's arm loosened from her waist and when she turned to him, the blond looked uncomfortable.

"Ema..."

"I know you're not having any luck with him and I'm not stupid enough to think I'll get through to him when his best friends haven't—"

"That ain't it, chick," Raoul said but she held up a hand.

"Let me finish, Ray," she said calmly. "I know it's not that easy… But have you considered that maybe Deston is at his beach house?"

No need to reveal she'd overhead Klavier say as much.

"He is," Klavier said quietly.

Ema raised an eyebrow at him. "Haven't you got a key to it?" she asked. "We were both living there up until two weeks ago."

Klavier shook his head sadly. "I returned it to him after I left."

Ema smiled then, a slow triumphant smile that got their attention. "Well, I didn't."

Seren let put a whoosh of air and Klavier's eyes widened. Beside her, Raoul sat up straight and his voice rang sharp: "You didn't?"

Ema shook her head, turning to him. "I kept forgetting," she said looking around at them all. "Anyway, if he's there shouldn't we just go in?"

"Yes," Raoul said, immediately rising to his feet. "That's _just_ what we're gonna do."

"Slow down, mate," Seren said, standing up as well.

"What for?" Raoul scoffed. "Give the idiot a chance to slit his wrist?"

Ema felt horror bubble inside her like lava at his words and Klavier, who'd noticed her reaction, spoke up, his voice admonishing; "Raoul."

"No, he's right," Ema cut in, turning to Klavier with fear in her heart. "We can't just leave him alone."

"We should go now," Raoul said, digging his fingers into his pocket and drawing out his keys. "It's been long enough."

"Ema," Seren started quietly. "Maybe you should—"

"Don't even think about telling me to stay behind!" Ema snapped angrily. "You can't make me."

"We do not know what we will find," Klavier said gently but she whirled on him, reeling with shock that he would even think about stopping her.

"This isn't fair!" she cried, her voice rising, looking around at all of them. "He's my friend too!"

Klavier glanced at Seren who was running a hand through his hair, his light blue eyes filled with worry. Ema wrenched her hand from Klavier's grasp and — unexpectedly — felt Raoul's fingers dig gently into her shoulder. She turned to him and found him staring at his friends grimly, his jaw tight with tension.

"You heard the girl," he said gravely. "Quit treatin' her like a damsel in distress." Ema's eyes widened as Raoul's gaze dropped to hers. "Besides," he added seriously. "Deston's gonna be fine. There ain't nothin' to shield her from."

_Thank you_, she mouthed.

Raoul nodded before turning to Klavier and Seren who were both looking at Ema. The blond moved forward suddenly and Ema stayed rooted by Raoul's side, her attention fixed intently on Klavier's tender expression. He touched her cheek gently.

"Go get ready, Ema," he instructed, his voice soft, his eyes apologetic. "We will wait."

.'.

When Raoul's Bugatti pulled up into the driveway, Ema half expected the house to be in ruins — she figured it was because it had seemed so long ago that she'd been here or maybe because it felt like Deston had been AWOL for longer than just a week. Whatever it was, Ema was unsettled by how perfect the place seemed because she didn't know what she was about to find inside. Despite the Italian's reassurance that Deston was fine, she couldn't help the dark sense of foreboding flooding her.

Someone pulled the car door open and a ringed hand extended. She clasped it and stepped out, throwing Raoul an odd look for his uncharacteristic gesture but his serious eyes were intently fixed on the windows of the house. She followed his grim expression and found her heart skip a beat at the shuttered blinds. They could see absolutely nothing going on inside the home.

"His bike's there," Seren said quietly, pointing to some place beside a large fountain, partly hidden by the stony structure. Ema stepped around Raoul to see where Seren was pointing; she swallowed the gasp that rose in her throat — the black motorbike lay on its side, haphazardly splayed across the gravel, covered with a scattering of droplets from the spray of water coming from the fountain.

"It was not there last night," Klavier said, having come to stand beside Ema.

Raoul marched across the garden and crouched down beside the fallen vehicle. He ran a hand over it and rubbed his fingers together before lifting them to his nose and sniffing. Ema's frown turned to surprise when Raoul's face morphed into shock and he shot up to his feet, twisting on the spot to glare up at the house.

"Stupid bastard!" he growled.

Before Ema could pose her question, Klavier placed a hand on the small of her back and pulled her along. They all quietly followed the cursing Italian towards the grand door that had never looked as strong and forbidding as it did now. Ema kept her eyes fixed on the ground as she rummaged through her purse for the key. Her fingers pushed impatiently past the tools she normally handled with such love until a sharp jab in her thumb told the detective she'd found it.

Just then they came to a halt before the entrance. Ema glanced at Seren who stood right beside her on the front step. He glanced at her with his kindly eyes and gave a small nod as if he had sensed her growing fear and though Ema knew she wasn't alone, that she was accompanied by some of the strongest men in the world, her fingers trembled because she knew that no power in the world could protect her if she found what she dreaded. If Deston was... If Deston had...

"It's okay, Ema," Seren said quietly, holding his hand out to her. "Give me the key, love."

Relief momentarily swept through her: she didn't have the courage to open the door, to be the first one to step in... Without a word, Ema did as he asked and dropped the silver key in his hand, stepping back to give him space but Seren stopped her, touching her hand briefly.

"It'll be alright, sweet."

Ema didn't trust herself to speak so she just allowed Klavier to draw her to his side. The prosecutor was watching Seren as he unlocked the door and his usually smiling lips were pursed together, set against a clenched jaw. Instinctively, Ema touched his arm; Klavier glanced at her and his eyes softened but before he could say whatever his lips had parted to say, the door clicked and Ema's head snapped toward it. Seren pushed it and it swung open, letting their shadows fall across the ground before them.

Ema swallowed deeply at the darkness that met their eyes. The entrance room she knew to be there was barely visible — the blackout shades had been pulled all the way down; the only light in the room was the rays of sunshine trickling in from behind them.

Seren threw them all one wary look and stepped over the threshold cautiously as if he was stepping into the lair of an enemy rather than his friend's home. Raoul threw Klavier a meaningful glance she didn't understand but again, Klavier led her forward before she could say a word.

Silence reigned. Seren's form became harder and harder to see as he moved further into room and there was an odd sound coming with his advance, as if he were stepping in broken glass. Ema was inadvertently reminded of Deston's shooting of the glass barrier, of Raoul falling into the shards…

_Focus!_ she told herself.

Ema forced herself to forget everything except what was going on around her; she could hear them breathing steadily, their movements slow and cautious. Klavier's hands left her and she turned to see where he'd gone but just at that moment, the door slammed shut behind them and Ema jumped.

"Klavier!" she hissed.

"Sorry, _liebling_," he murmured.

Before Ema could respond, the lights came on and she saw Raoul near a wall, his hand still at the switch he'd just flicked. His darting eyes caught her attention and she followed his gaze to the scene behind her and gasped. The fear exploded inside her like a firework as she took in the mess that greeted them.

Sofas, chairs and tables lay overturned on a floor cluttered with smaller objects, some shattered into tiny fragments. The TV that had once hung on the wall lay dismally on the floor and the sound system lay in pieces from one wall to the other, the spaces between each speaker littered with books and discs, remotes and wires. At the far end, a bookshelf lay on the floor showing 9 very distinct bullet holes and beside it, the half overturned brown rug was stained.

"Fuck _me_…" Raoul whispered, scanning the circular room.

"Do you think someone attacked him?" Ema demanded as Seren leant down next to the bookshelf and examined it. He ran his fingers over the holes before turning to the rug and yanking it out from under its wooden weight.

"I'm willin' to bet that ain't blood," Raoul said.

Seren raised it until the rug was a foot away from his face and then he let it drop to the ground with a revolted look. "It's alcohol."

"Thought so," Raoul said. "Was on his hog too."

"Wait, _what_?" Ema asked, shocked.

"Someone really went to work on that bike with somethin'," Raoul said grimly. "It was bleedin' gas and covered in beer or vodka or some shit."

"Who did it?" Ema asked needlessly — she had a pretty good idea who'd done it. Raoul also saw the futility in answering her question because he simply looked at her gravely, his hand resting on the gun she knew he kept in his waistband.

"I'm gonna take the bastard's licence away," Raoul said angrily. "Gonna make sure he can't—"

"Quiet!"

They all looked at Klavier and Ema's terror, induced by the urgency of his tone, heightened at the way he was frozen, his eyes darting around the room.

"Do you hear that?"

Ema listened to the silence, her fingers curling into fists at the rising tension. Her eyes darted around the room, trying to look for anything that might have told her detective's mind something else had happened here, that this wasn't entirely his doing…

_Where are you, Deston? What have you done?_

And it was just when she posed that question that she heard it: a female laugh.

Her eyes snapped open in shock at the happy sound, so out of place amid this destruction. She looked around at the boys and found them all turned towards the staircase behind them, their faces ashen. Raoul's fingers slipped from the gun at his wasitband and he took a step toward the bottom of the stairs, his usually smirking expression now dissolved into one of stricken disbelief. Seren took slow steps towards the same space, his pale face turned upwards.

"No..."

The laughter turned into speech but the hilarity never left the voice and it grew louder and louder until it seemed to fill the silence, fill the vast spaces of the house, until Ema thought she was going crazy. She turned to Klavier desperately, looking for answers, but he was frozen, his eyes wide with some faraway fear, his lips parted and his breathing shallow. He was looking up too, as if he could see something she couldn't.

And then all three Gavinners were moving, their long legs carrying them up the grand staircase and Ema rushed after them, her confusion and fright increasing with every step the Gavinners sped up. She barely noticed where she was going, that it was dark or that there was a sharp pain in her right leg — all she was aware of as she chased after them was the laughter and the way her gut turned cold when she heard Deston's voice join in…

"_Whatever you say, baby! If it wasn't for that—fuck!"_

"_You talk too much, Des!"_

"_Would you rather I kissed you, angel-face?"_

Another tinkling laugh, another comment and then there was hooting that sound like—

She collided against someone and Ema's hand reached out to stop herself from falling over. Klavier's hand shot out to steady her and Ema clutched onto his arm tighter when she straightened and saw his eyes, full of rising horror and fixed ahead. For a moment, she couldn't find it in herself to look, to see what had him so frozen but then she turned and when her mind registered the scene, she felt her heart stop.

"_I can't imagine how you think I'll marry you, old man!"_

"_Oh you'll marry me, princess."_

Ema was transfixed by the sight before her, the sound as it resounded around them.

"_You move like an eighty year old!"_

It was Deston's laugh but it wasn't the Deston she was seeing.

"_Do I kiss like one too, baby?"_

The laptop lit up the room, the light from the changing frames in the movie flickering on the walls intensely. It rested in the centre, on a desk covered with bottles of vodka, one of which was still in the clutches of long, tanned fingers.

"_Deston!"_

The sound coming from the laptop faded out until there was nothing left except the roaring in her ears, the breaking of the dam in her heart — she didn't even hear herself whisper his name nor did she notice that she was moving until she was standing directly beside him. Ema looked down at Deston where his head lay on the edge of the desk. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and he reeked of alcohol. His jaw was dark with stubble as if he hadn't shaved in days and there were tracks of —

No, it _couldn't_ be… Deston didn't cry…

She forced herself to look away from his face but then her eyes landed on the hand that still held the vodka bottle and the arm that stretched out next to his head. A cry escaped her and though she wanted to look away, though she wanted to turn and run, Ema couldn't tear her eyes away from the smear of dark red on his skin.

"He's bleeding!" she gasped. "Klavier, he's bleeding!"

Someone pulled her back and Raoul took her place; his fingers hit at the keys of the laptop fiercely and silence fell in the room.

"Come here, Ema," Klavier whispered in her ear as his firm but gentle hands drew her against him.

"You have to help him!" Ema breathed. "He's—"

"It's not fatal," Raoul said calmly. "He's going to be fine, Ema."

Fine? He wasn't going to be fine! He was lying unconscious amid a pile of mess, his arm bleeding profusely!_ How could he be fine? _

But Ema had neither the energy nor the frame of mind to verbalise her argument. She held onto Klavier as the Italian yanked at Deston's shoulder, forcing his body to slump upright but he remained unconscious, his head lolling pathetically.

"Hey!" Seren called loudly, appearing on the other side and slapping at Deston's face. _"Des!"_

"We need to get him to his bedroom," Raoul said, crouching down and throwing one of Deston's arms around his shoulder. "Get the lights, Klavier, and ring for a doctor."

When the lights came on, Seren had thrown Deston's other arm over his shoulder and both he and Raoul gripped him around the waist before lifting him up. Ema's chest tightened painfully when she saw the blood on Deston's knuckles as they turned him and she held back the sob rising in her throat.

He'd always been so strong and dependable, so fierce and together that she couldn't reconcile her best friend with the broken mess of a man Raoul and Seren were hauling through the door. That man wasn't Deston. Deston always smiled and laughed and he only got angry when someone was disloyal. He wasn't violent and, Ema realised with a deep pang, he never — _ever_ — cried.

She turned to Klavier, needing to say something but he'd already pulled her into his arms and was crushing her to his chest, soothing her with his quiet voice. Ema shut her eyes tightly, trying to hold back the river of tears straining her throat because she knew that if she started, she wouldn't stop and they didn't need one more person to look after.

_Pull yourself together,_ her mind commanded. _Deston needs them! Deston needs them…_

Ema took a deep breath and pulled back, looking at Klavier.

"Go help them."

He brushed the hair back from her face. "Will you be okay?"

She nodded and then he kissed her lightly before letting her go, slipping away through the doorway leading to the bedroom. Ema stared after him, feeling her strength weaken. She took another deep breath and looked around at the room she guessed had been a study before Deston had trashed it. It was almost as bad as the one downstairs — the only thing still standing upright was the desk with the laptop and the chair which had been occupied by Deston until moments ago.

Ema kept her eyes away from there intentionally, moving around the room in a bid to control her racing heart. She needed to keep calm, needed to keep herself together. This wasn't about her, it was about Deston.

With great strength, Ema found it in her to steel herself against the entire situation.

_Examine!_ her mind yelled. _Occupy yourself…_

She fell into a crouch right where she was, trying to focus on the mess but despite her ridiculous (to her own mind) attempt to calm down, Ema's attention was caught straight away by a glint of silver. With a lump in the back of her throat because she knew just what it was, she reached out to it and her trembling fingers wrapped around the handle.

It was a small knife… stained with dried blood.

The detective rose to her feet, her eyes fixed intently on the shiny blade. It looked so wicked, so lethal, she couldn't imagine why Deston even had anything like this.

And as if in response to her though, the blade suddenly reflected Deston's handsome face, smiling carelessly. With a yelp, Ema dropped it and it clattered between her feet loudly but she barely noticed; the detective had whirled around to see if Deston was really standing behind her, though she knew it to be stupid, and her eyes landed on the laptop.

The screen was frozen, showing the slightly blurred image of Deston's dazzling smile, his head turned to the side as if something had caught his attention. The face was younger, more adolescent, his hair was cropped shorter and though his face was just as mischievous, it lacked the wisdom he carried now.

Without thinking about what she was doing, Ema's fingers reached out to the space bar and tapped lightly and though she was expecting it, she still jumped as the sound of male voices filled the room. The frame blurred with motion as, for a moment, Deston slipped out of sight.

"_What the he—whoa!"_ Deston laughed, ducking his head.

The camera shook as gales of laughter exploded all around them and then she saw the frame focus on a younger Klavier who was standing several feet away, his attention focused on something else. _"Get him good, ja?"_

"_Hey!"_ Deston cried from somewhere nearby. _"Stop it! She doesn't need anymore encouragement to kill me. Look at the way—__**shit!**__"_

The camera moved away and two figures came in sight as they ducked and weaved around each other, their arms and legs connecting with surprising force, one of whom was Deston. He was backtracking as his attacker jabbed at him again and again and while he seemed to be at a severe disadvantage, there was nothing but fun and laughter in his youthful features.

Ema turned her attention to his opponent whose perfect figure was spinning and leaping, punching and throwing in an almost identical reflection of Deston's… she gave him no inch, gave him no time to rest or think and were it not for the long, fiery hair that whipped around her and the obvious enjoyment in Deston's eyes, Ema might have believed this woman meant him harm. All of his counterattacks were just that split second in time, just that inch lucky and Ema understood exactly what Klavier had meant when he'd said she was Deston's equal. She was just as destructive, just as fierce and her form almost as powerful.

"_You're on fire, my queen,"_ Deston called.

"_Quit—talking—right—__**NOW**__!"_ she enunciated with each blow and Deston blocked each one, until his back was against the wall and she stood pressed against him, her elbow at his throat. _"You're driving me insane with your gibberish, Des. Shut up and fight properly!"_

Deston's smile exploded into laughter and, in a flash of lightning, he'd grabbed hold of her and spun her around until their positions were reversed. _"I __**am**__ fighting properly, princess,"_ he said and though his head partially blocked the camera's view, Ema could see the way his lips brushed against hers. All around them, the boys whistled in appreciation.

"_Kiss him!"_ Daryan hooted. _"That should get the boy's blood boiling!"_

"_Nah, girl, don't kiss him!"_ Raoul's voice boomed from behind the camera. _"Make him fight for it!"_

"_Do you want your arse kicked, Ray?"_ Seren asked.

Deston stirred against the girl and turned, finally giving Ema a view of her face and she inhaled sharply. Framed by thick, wavy red-hair was quite possibly the most beautiful face Ema had ever seen: the eyes were large, slanted around dark brown irides set alongside the slender bridge of a perfect nose. Beneath it was a full mouth stretched into a mischievous and heartbreaking smile, revealing perfect, white teeth. Her skin was a flawless ivory that stretched taut over her slender neck and shoulders, disappearing under the cotton shirt that hung loosely around her frame.

Ema's fingers pressed into the space bar again and the frame froze on the red-headed beauty's face as she beamed up into Deston's smiling face.

And it was at that moment, when Ema saw the way Deston was looking down into her face, as if he has discovered the reason why he existed, that she finally understood how much he had loved — and how much he had lost.

"Ja," came Klavier's quiet voice from behind her. Ema turned to see him standing nearby, his haunted eyes fixed on the laptop screen. "That is Raina."


	37. A Tale Of Two Assassins

A Tale Of Two Assassins

'.'

Listen to this story I have to share

Of a girl with dark eyes and fiery hair;

A face of deadly beauty, a body like a flame,

Too hot to touch, too wild to tame.

.'.

_It was past midnight when Deston finally reached his destination. Utter stillness echoed in the silence, broken only by his cautious footsteps. With wary eyes and his senses on high alert, Deston eyed the building ahead, his sharp eyes running along the walls. There was no way he could scale those if they were as smooth as he—_

_Wait. His eyes zeroed in on the frames encasing the windows and he looked up, following the rest of them all the way to the top, working out the distance between each. Casting a furtive glance around at his surroundings to ensure there was nobody to see him, the agent ran across the grounds until he stood between the building of his interest and its neighbour. He glanced between the adjacent walls and then up at the window frame just out of his reach; it was wide enough for him to grasp onto in his ascent. He would have to be quick though – they looked to be made of metal and he knew his fingers could easily slip. _

_Taking one step back to look up at the windows again, Deston double-checked his conclusions and once he was confident he hadn't miscalculated, turned to face the opposite wall. One deep breath, one small moment of meditation and loosening muscles, Deston jumped towards it — his light boots scraped against the bricks as he kicked against them, turning in mid-air to grab onto window frame and—_

_He landed on the ground with an ungraceful thump, cursing himself for his failure. His hands and knees throbbed where he'd reached out to break his fall but he ignored it, glancing up at the windows again before looking back at the wall. "Get up, Cavatin," he told himself grimly._

_His body obeyed with perfect discipline. This time, he took several steps back, his determined eyes fixed intently on the wall and then ran towards it; his leg shot out and he kicked against it, the momentum giving him the leverage he needed. This time, his hand grasped the metal framing of the window and he grunted as his body thudded against the glass, the impact making him lurch backwards and almost causing him to lose his grip. His body swung inwards again and he feared that another hit to the glass might shatter it — quickly, he lifted his feet so they stepped on either side of the window and Deston's movement stopped altogether. He paused to breathe for a moment, listening for any sound to indicate someone was aware of his presence but he got nothing except silence. Now in a stable position, he secured his grip to the frame and, taking a deep breath, began to move up with lightning alacrity._

_His arms reached above him almost as if they had a mind of their own, guiding the rest of his body towards each frame. His feet fell perfectly on each new ledge, in every nook and cranny they could find until he had reached the uppermost window and the only thing between him and a more stable territory was the extension of the stone roof obstructing his view of the sky. Deston paused, his feet in the small space available on the window sill, his hands gripping the edges of the frame, and he looked up. The roof jutted out a little more than a foot, making it near impossible for him to reach backwards for it without (most likely )losing his balance and falling to his death (or some other painful end). _

_"Shit," he muttered. _

_From the ground, it hadn't looked that wide but up close, it became obvious that to risk the jump would be little more than suicide. He looked down at all the progress he'd made and gritted his teeth, knowing that to descend again was not an option — the hit to his pride aside, Deston knew he had little time to waste. The deal was happening soon and he'd already wasted enough time. He needed to think and he needed to think fast. _

_He swept the jutting roof again and grimaced. His arms and fingers couldn't take the strain from holding on much longer. The distance wasn't that great and with the right push, he could make it. He could. _

_He had to._

_Taking a deep breath and glancing once between his destination and the window that was his lifeline, Deston sprung away from it, his hands reaching up towards the edge of the roof. Mid-suspension, with nothing but air in his clawing hands, the agent felt his stomach turn over as he waited to plummet to his death. And just as a sense of grim failure washed through him, disgust that he'd failed in his first important task, his hands miraculously latched onto something. _

_A foolish grin sweeping across his mouth, Deston reached up with his other arm to steady his swinging body and thanked the higher power that had allowed him to live this day. His mind fixing itself on the task once more, he grunted and hauled himself up to the roof, uncaring of the fact that there might be guards up there waiting to jump on him. Confidence told him he would deal with them easily enough — right now, he needed to get somewhere he could stand without the risk of a fall. When his stomach pressed into the edge of the stone and his legs swung upwards and he rolled over onto his side, a sigh of relief escaped him. **Man**, real life was nothing like training, he thought as he took a deep breath before jumping to his feet and scanning the surroundings. The rooftop was deserted._

_He made a quick scan of the neighbouring buildings but found them equally barren, their windows dark save for a few dimly lit ones. It was odd, he considered as he began his advance towards a door on the other side. Considering the importance of this deal, there should have been several guards on this roof at the very least. It was common for crime lords to secure the perimeter before even arriving at their destinations. How else would — **could **— they be vigilant? Yet there was neither hair nor hide to be seen and for a moment the thought crossed his mind that maybe he was wrong. However, even if that was the case (which he sincerely hoped it was not considering the jump of death he'd just endured) Deston knew he had to check out the building to make sure. _

_There was only one door, heavy and metallic set in a stone frame. If it was locked (which it most probably was), Deston had no idea how to open it. But as he walked towards it, he told himself he'd find a way. He had no other choice. _

_"Right-o, Des," he muttered to himself as he stopped before it, his eyes fixed on the handle. "Let's see what's happening down below."_

_He touched the gun in his waistband and satisfied that it was still there, quickly swept all the places he'd placed his knives. He knew he wasn't adequately equipped for this task, despite the array of weapons his body harboured, but the young agent was confident he'd manage to pick up ammunition as he made his way towards his target. There were bound to be guards along the way who'd be more than satisfactorily armed. _

_But he was getting ahead of himself. The door was still closed, still as forbidding as when he'd laid eyes on it. **One task at a time**, he told himself. He had to get through this first. Knowing he had to ascertain the strength of the handle before he could decide what to do, Deston reached out and pulled on it. _

_It flung open without resistance. _

_Deston's eyes widened in shock for the smallest moment before suspicion took over. Something was definitely not right. The fact that no guards were on the roof combined with the unlocked door just reeked of trouble. Deston knew every step had to be careful, his every thought had to be perfect. There was no room for mistakes — he'd used up his quota for the night. _

_The staircase descended into darkness. Utter stillness was the only companion to his cautious footsteps. Even his even breathing was a luxury he knew he couldn't afford. He had to remain out of sight for as long as he could. _

_His descent led him through pitch blackness until he saw the glow of light at the end of this tunnel. His footsteps became almost inaudible as he reached it and he was shimmying along the wall now, listening out for any sound that would tell him he wasn't alone. It came in the sound of low murmurings. There were at least two — and he had to remain prepared for more. _

_Deston stopped near the doorway, thankful there was nothing barring his way. It made life a lot easier if he didn't have to draw their attention all at once by opening a door. With a discreet breath, he leaned forward just enough so he could see the interior and didn't know if he was pleased with what he saw or not. _

_There were 3 guards, all patrolling the floor which cut off several feet away. The tops of several ladders could be seen, appearing to lead down into an area not yet visible to him — which also meant there could be several more down there. He had to move swiftly and silently. Deston peeked around the frame he was leaning against and glanced around — several crates caught his eye._

**_Good. _**

_Letting instinct take over, he moved without thinking. Thought, he found, hindered him and almost always cost him something. He didn't have the time for his infuriatingly analytical mind to make a decision — his gut was trustworthy and that was what he would listen to. _

_Deston glanced at the patrolling men just once to make sure they weren't facing his direction and then he dived sideways, landing quietly and smoothly behind a pile of crates. With a pile of strong wooden boxes shielding him for the moment, Deston lifted his head and eyed the guards once more. _

_Guards had a tendency to retrace their footsteps — whether it was a product of their boredom or just an unspoken pact that they wouldn't get in each other's way, he didn't know. All he cared about was that it was something he could use to his advantage. The closest one patrolled in a circle that eventually brought him close to where Deston was hiding: testing the sturdiness of the crates (he didn't want them smashing and grabbing attention) he slipped a small blade into his hand from a band under his sleeve. He didn't want to kill anyone but he had to be prepared. _

_When the guard turned, his periphery seemed to catch Deston because his eyes widened and his mouth parted in alarm. Before he could call out to anyone, Deston's hand shot out to grab the others neck and, with memorised precision, he squeezed the guards neck just below his jaw. The man struggled for a moment, struck dumb by the unrelenting hand and then his eyes rolled back in his head, his body going limp. Deston lowered the man onto the ground quietly, looking over his shoulder to see where the other two guards were. Now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. It would be moments before they noticed their comrade missing. _

_Without preamble, he vaulted over the crate before him and ran lightly to the next pile of boxes, pausing behind them to take a look at his targets. Damn. They were too far away. He had two options — either rush them both head on in which case his presence would almost certainly become known or he could attack them from here and hope the thud of their falling bodies wouldn't attract too much attention. _

_Given the risks, he preferred the latter. _

_The agent looked at them once more before sprinting off to the side to a third set of crates, these ones closest to a ladder that led to the lower floor. Now easily spottable, he had to crouch when he saw five guards below him, three of them at three separate doors, and the other two wandering aimlessly. They were heavily armed and looked like they meant business. Deston wasn't intimidated — if he took care of the top two, the rest would become easy. He had the advantage of height. _

_But for now, he had to remain incognito. _

_How could he take them all down without giving them the chance to alert anyone else? Altogether, there were seven guards — how could he fell them all at once? His brain worked furiously, increasingly aware of every second it ate up in its attempt to conjure up a plan… and then it hit him. He glanced back at the guards before him and a wolfish smile spread across his mouth. Here he was thinking the sound of their bodies hitting the floor would be a bad thing when, really, it was just what he needed. _

_With steady fingers, he extracted another knife from inside his jacket while his glittering eyes remained intensely fixed on the men. Again, not giving his brain a chance to second guess the abilities of his body, he shot back the way he came, this time making sure he was spotted. As soon as they saw him, their rifles rose to point at him but his hands had already flicked the deadly blades at both of them — the silver agents of death met their targets with eerie precision and without even having made a sound, Deston had dropped the two guards. _

_And when their bodies collapsed against the floor, the heavy thuds were just audible enough that someone below called out to them. _

_"What the shit you mongrels doin' up there?"_

_Deston grinned at that, making his way towards the bodies. He picked up one of the rifles and examined it. It wasn't something he wanted to carry around but it sure would make a nice present for whoever was about to climb that ladder. _

_"Ya deaf or what?" the same voice called. _

_Deston ignored it as he crouched down and yanked his knife out of the man's chest. A twinge of remorse filled him at the action — no matter what he had done, Deston didn't like taking the life of another._

_The ladder at the far end shook and Deston glanced at it uninterestedly. It was about time — he didn't have all night. _

_With one last glance at the dead men on the ground, Deston rose to his feet, his resolve strengthening once more. The bloody knife in one hand and the rifle in the other, the agent advanced towards the creaking ladder, ready to meet the new arrival. When he finally appeared, the man barely had a moment to stabilise himself (something Deston believed was only fair) before he was hit around the head. The Gavinner smiled genially at the guard as he crumbled at his feet._

_"Lerroy?" _

_Deston looked down at his latest victim and cocked his head. Yup, Lerroy definitely suited him — it carried a thuggish connotation. Resisting the urge to call back, he swung the rifle over his shoulder and dug around in his pockets for some gum. _

_"Where you gone, dipshit?"_

_He smirked when his hands wrapped around the box and, once it was out of his pocket, he fell into a crouch. Deston settled the rifle across his thighs as he went about extracting the sticks of gum from their confines and taking the wrapper off, taking a moment to crumple them up. The sound wasn't particularly noticeable but what he did next certainly was: with one hand he popped the gum between his teeth and with the other he threw the wrapper over the edge, seeing it fly through the air and disappear.. _

_"Did you see that?"_

_"See what?" _

_"What the hell are you fuckers doing up there?" _

_Deston glanced at the bodies behind him, his mouth slowly working around the gum. Then, pulling another stick from the pack, he did it all over again. _

_"Yeah, I saw it too." _

_Silence fell and Deston did it again. And again._

**_Come on, boys. Get on up here. _**

_He was throwing the fully wrapped sticks of gum before two of the ladders rattled and he cocked his head back, satisfied that he'd finally got a reaction. He knew he was dealing with brawn and no brain but what did a guy have to do to get a bunch of retards to try and murder him?_

_The young Gavinner, still crouched, lifted the rifle from his thighs and aimed at the ladder — and paused. He just had to sit and wait for them to come to him. His superior would kill him if he knew how much Deston was enjoying himself or how relaxed he was being in his mission. _

_It was fortunate, therefore, that he was alone_

_Ah. He could see the top of someone's head. A fleeting surprise at their stupidity flashed through his mind but then it was eclipsed by a more amusing thought: **chew on this, sucker. **_

_The gunshot resounded in the vastness of the room. The last echo had barely finished reverberating before Deston stood up and turned his weapon on the neighbouring ladder where the snarling face of another guard stared up at him — and he pulled the trigger. _

_A flurry of activity started up below but Deston remained just where he was, the rifle grasped in steady hands and silver eyes fixed on the far reaches of the floor below. He knew they had two choices — climb up the ladder and die or retreat to the back and shoot at him. _

_Either way, they were dead men. _

_So when they did just as he predicted, Deston's target practice started, the silence punctuated by three gunshots. Within moments, they were all silent heaps on the floor and he turned the rifle upwards, setting it over his shoulder again. Pleased with his first attack, he took a moment to look around at his handiwork. He'd got through without a scratch. _

_Deston examined the body behind him, the only guard he'd left alive. He was trying to ascertain how long he'd be unconscious when Deston heard it — the crackling sound of a radio that stopped almost as quickly as it'd started. He turned sharply to look behind him, scanning the floor below, his ears straining for any other sound. With the sound of shuffling feet, Deston felt a twinge of alarm. Clearly, someone hadn't been as stupid as the rest — and he couldn't risk whoever it was alerting anyone else. _

_Without a second thought, the Gavinner marched to the ladder and mounted it, only going down a few steps so that he was still out of sight. Hands gripping the sides, he cautiously leaned sideways, his shoulders and neck contracting as he looked to see who he was dealing with. _

_"Bastard!" _

_Deston reacted without thinking — his body spun backwards through the air and there was a gunshot followed by a burning pain in his leg but he barely noticed it as he landed with a thump on his hands and knees. Before the guard could get his bearings and turn his weapon on him again, Deston was on him, his fists landing blows as if they had a mind of his own. Seconds later, the man fell unconscious and Deston stared at him briefly._

_Then he picked up the man's gun and transceiver. His thigh throbbed and he glanced down at it, annoyed to see the rip in his pants and the blood that was oozing out. He supposed he should have been grateful the bullet had only grazed him but the mess in his new pants irritated him. _

_"Move your ass," he told himself. He'd wasted enough time with these clowns. It was time to move. There would be no more games. _

_There was nobody for the next few floors and Deston's puzzled frown grew deeper with every staircase he passed down and nobody attacked him. He was tense, every fibre in his body telling him this wasn't normal. He'd had enough training to know that a deal as huge as this did not allow for so many unoccupied floors. Deston had spent the past seven months finding out as much as he could about Romano and one thing was certain — he was not brave enough to come out here without a backup that would put an army to shame,_

_Ill at ease, Deston stopped before the next door, listening for any sound that there was anyone on the other side. The discomfort in him arose — had he got the wrong place? No that wasn't possible. The guards he'd encountered hadn't exactly been playing hide and seek. Something was definitely wrong. _

_He slowly opened the door and looked around, the stress on his nerves increasing. Where the hell were all the bullets he'd been told to watch out for? Where were all the men he'd been told would be stationed to drink his blood? Where were the—_

_"Whoa!" _

_Deston saw him coming just in time and ducked out of the way — the man was faster than any of the others because he'd barely had time to turn around before the attacker was swinging a knife in his direction. He jumped back and anger surged through him at the relentless way the bastard kept coming at him. When he jumped back again to dodge the swipe, Deston spun mid-air, his leg rising in an arc and his kick landed across the other man's cheek._

_"That's more like it," he muttered, watching the man fall to the floor._

_He didn't waste time basking in his triumph now. Deston turned around to look for a door or a stairway but his eyebrows shot up. The man he'd disabled wasn't the first, he realised as he examined the litter of bodies all across the floor. _

_Someone had got here before him. _

_But how many someones? _

_And who were they? _

_Shoulders squared, Deston moved forward. There was no use standing around asking for questions when he could move his ass and find the answers. He reached the far door in a few strides and then raced down the stairs, pulling his knife out with one hand and arming himself with the gun with the other. Discretion no longer mattered. He now knew why all the floors were so barren — someone already had the building on high alert. _

_His suspicions were confirmed when two more guards appeared as he entered a lower level. He barely dodged them, using his knife to slice at the man's outstretched arm while shooting at the other. One kick aimed at the one who clutched his injury rendered him unconscious and Deston was moving forward again. The closer he got to the ground, the more the danger seemed to increase. There were several more guards and he dispatched them effortlessly but still there was no sign of the one who'd caught everyone's attention and made his life significantly harder._

_"Damn it," he hissed, entering another room and fleetingly glancing at all the fallen bodies — it was probably a rival syndicate. Their work was sloppy: they'd left too many guards alive who could and most probably **had **told everyone else in the building about an intruder. Deston grimaced as he flew down flights of stairs and through darkened hallways, his footsteps barely touching the ground as his speed increased. Whoever had caused this destruction had no doubt ruined his chances of catching Romano tonight. When he got his hands on whoever had ruined his months of hard work…_

_A sound caught his attention and he skidded to a halt, his keen eyes sweeping the narrow hallway. It came again a moment later and Deston ran toward it instantly, his focus on his destination: he crashed through the door, his gun in the air and his knife held aloft for the perfect throw. He wasn't going to give the guards a chance — his objective was to find the other intruder and get to Romano as soon as was humanly possible._

_Except the person he found in the new room was not a guard and he barely managed to control his trigger finger, barely managed to grip on to the blade and stop it from flying out through his fingers. _

_At first he didn't recognise her. The form was familiar — there weren't many figures that possessed such a deceptively slender body nor hair that deeply red. And there was **no one **else to match that description in the agency. He'd joked sometimes that she was a walking, talking police siren and she shouldn't be in the agency. After all, anybody who attracted attention the way she did was bound to have difficulty maintaining anonymity, something that was crucial in this line of work. _

_When Deston had joined the agency, he'd been entirely focused on excelling so aside from the occasional agreement that she was indeed beautiful and stylish, he'd not thought of her. Her looks had been like a piece of art — it was nice to look at when it came before you but otherwise was insignificant. _

_But now it was as though someone had locked him in a room with the painting and he finally understood what the other men had been talking about. Maybe it was the way the dim light struck her glossy hair or the way she had single-handedly taken down dozens of guards. Maybe it was that even though she stood over another body, a metallic beam in one hand and a bloody hammer in the other she looked beautiful. She was perfect — from the fiery hair that cascaded down her regal back to the almond-shaped eyes she turned on him. _

_"What are you doing here?" she said, her voice deceptively soft. _

_Not the slightest bit rattled by the bloody weapons or the piercing stare of her eyes, Deston looked around at the fallen bodies, his gaze slow and deliberate. "Same as you — only a little slower, it seems." _

_"And rowdy as hell," she snapped suddenly, surprising him. "You've alerted the rest of the building!"_

_He opened his mouth to tell her it was the guards she'd missed that had done it but found his lips pressing together again, reluctant to tell her she was responsible for that mistake. He glanced down at his gun and smiled — what difference would it make if she knew she'd messed up? He was too much of a gentleman to do that to any woman._

_"At least one of us finds your incompetence amusing," she said quietly, watching him with hard eyes. _

_Deston's smile grew. "You're a little tense, Raina."_

_She faced him fully and jabbed the hammer in his direction, visibly annoyed. "YOU come crashing in here like a Neanderthal and ruin my whole mission. I'm entitled to be a little annoyed." _

_Deston swept her figure, somewhat impressed by her style. Even on a mission as dangerous as this, she looked like an untouched model; her white clothes were admirably unspecked by blood. The jacket was tight and hugged her torso seductively, the jeans perfectly fitting as they disappeared into her heeled boots. _

_"Aren't those a little impractical?" he said, nodding at her footwear. He waited as she stared at him for a long moment, her almost impassive expression deteriorating into a scowl. _

_"They're a great weapon for when I'm kicking an arrogant berk in the face," Raina answered. Her eyes narrowed. "I can demonstrate if you want."_

_Deston's amusement rose at the threatening way she was glaring at him. "I'm just saying it for you. I don't want you to trip over while you're running. That'd be inconvenient."_

_Just as he'd known they would, her eyes flashed. "I don't intend to run away."_

_"I didn't necessarily mean running **away**." Deston couldn't help the devilish instincts rising up in him. "But even if you did…"_

_Raina moved like lightning and the beam she'd been holding spun through the air, missing Deston by an inch as he stepped aside, thoroughly amused. "Guess it's true what they say about red-heads."_

_"Right back at you, you stupid rockstar," Raina snapped._

_"Shit," Deston muttered in mock apprehension, drawing another suspicious glare. "Are you one of the girls I slept with and didn't call back?"_

_The hammer missed him by less than an inch._

_"Carry on," she threatened, pointing at him. "Just carry on — you'll be one instrument short Cavatin!"_

_He was just about suppressing the laughter at the back of his throat. During their training, Raina Aeron had been the only other candidate who'd maintained her cool under all circumstances, passing the tests with next to no difficulty. She'd reacted to the interest from the men with barely more than a fleeting glance in their direction. To see her displaying emotions of any kind was somewhat amusing and he might have continued to rile her up if it wasn't for what she said next._

_"I can't let Romano get away," she muttered suddenly, turning away and marching to the window. _

_Deston arched an eyebrow at the words but said nothing. He supposed it wasn't that big a surprise that he wasn't the only one after Romano. Instead, he slid the gun into the waistband of his pants before approaching one of the bodies. Raina learned out of the window and glanced around while he picked up an abandoned gun. He took a moment to check how many bullets remained in the chamber and when he looked up again, Raina was facing him and her face was business-like. _

_"If you're coming," she said in a significantly calmer voice, "then put the gun away. You've caused enough ruckus." _

_"What are you doing here?" Deston said, ignoring her request. "The Chief didn't tell me you were on the case." _

_Raina barely glanced at him when she answered. "He didn't tell me about you either." _

_A faraway sound cut into the conversation and both of them snapped toward it simultaneously. However just as Raina threw open a door leading into another descent of stairs, Deston stopped her with a hand on her arm. He shook his head; no, she couldn't just run down into what could possibly be an ambush. Raina's eyes, now glinting with an unsettling calm, flickered behind them where the floor was filled with bodies. Pulling out of his grasp impatiently, she moved towards the corpses and examined them carefully. Deston watched in bewilderment as she went about yanking at their uniforms._

_"Right," she murmured, coming to stand beside him several minutes later, thoroughly armed with guns and knives. When she held some of them out to him, the smile was back on his face. _

_"I've got enough." _

_Raina glanced down at the knife and gun in his hands. Her full mouth pursed as she looked away, down the stairs. "I can see that," she said softly sarcastic, tucking a gun in her pants._

_He flashed her a devilish smile. "You'll have to search much more thoroughly than that to see them all, baby." _

_Aside from a slight tick in her delicate jaw, Raina was unmoved by his behaviour. Without so much as a glance in his direction, she began to walk and Deston followed her down the stairs. _

_He'd seen her perform during their training and she had been fabulous. There was no other way to describe it. Her every move had been flawless art, like a rehearsed dance of seduction — it had driven all of his friends wild. But that was nothing compared to what he was seeing now. Her shoulders were thrown back, her face tilted up proudly, her walk fearless. His eyes were drawn to the sway of her hips and the slender hands that swung on either side, each grasping a KA-BAR like they were nothing more than handbags swinging between her fingers._

**_Damn. _**

_Raina whipped around and narrowed her eyes at him. "Did you say something?" _

_Deston flashed her another smile — something he was finding increasingly easy to do — and cocked his head to the side. "I don't think I said it. I certainly thought it."_

_"Do I want to know?" _

_"Probably not," Deston said with a smirk just to test what her reaction would be. _

_She looked momentarily irked but then she turned away from him and continued on, her long hair flowing against her arched back. **She's a real professional**, he thought in admiration. He'd half expected her to try and stab him — and was somewhat disappointed by her lack of response. _

**_Focus. This isn't the time to be eyeing the district hottie up. _**

_When they reached the doorway and Raina continued to saunter on, all of his observations froze. She was showing no signs of stopping and before Deston could grab her, she had swept out of his reach, kicked the door open and stormed in. Alarm and slight panic took over just as tiny sparks started to go off along the paths of his nerves. He surged forward, all ready to see her fall dead at his feet under a volley of bullets but complete silence reigned around them. _

_"What if this room had been full of guards?" he demanded after a moment, at once relieved and angry._

_Raina glanced at him over her shoulder and the first signs of a smile tugged at her lips. "We would kill them." _

_"You can't take risks like that," he chastised. "It's stupid."_

_"There haven't been that many guards on each floor. We'll be fine," Raina said dismissively, looking around. "We're close to the ground floor. Romano has to be here somewhere." _

_Deston's lips pressed together in a thin line but he said nothing. He followed her eyes to the windows where he could see the short drop to the ground. "I doubt Romano's going to be here," he said. "He knew we were coming." _

_"Knew you were coming, more like," Raina said scathingly. "Idiot! You've ruined any chances of capturing him!" _

_Deston met Raina's stare head on, the fleeting opinion crossing his mind that she was one difficult person to deal with. Just for a split second, he wanted to tell her exactly whose sloppy work had dropped them in an empty room devoid of any ring members but then he just turned away from her, looking around the room for any clues that would indicate who'd been here and whether or not they'd missed their chance at apprehending their target._

_That's when he saw them. _

_Out of the corner of his eye, he saw several black figures moved out into their line of vision; his gun was out and shooting the same moment that the door slammed shut behind them. For a moment there was nothing but the sound of gunfire, shouts and falling bodies. They descended on them both like wolves in numbers that far exceeded anything he'd anticipated. His body screamed with the danger around him, fiercely pumping him with an acid that ate at his nerves. He had to get it out, had to unleash it from his body—_

_The gun in his hand clicked it's betrayal but he barely paused. His arms flew around, catching anyone nearby in a powerful punch. He use the empty gun to render as many unconscious as he could. His hands flew into his jacket and pants, pulling out all of the blades he'd stacked on his person and with lethal precision, he threw them at anyone and everyone in his way. One, two, three, **four** down… He could keep this up…_

_Her cry wrenched him out of the momentum and Deston spun on the spot — she was moving like a cat, her limbs catching all those who attacked her in their lethal dance. But while she wasn't in any direct trouble, her voice had pulled him out of his unrealistic belief. It opened his eyes just long enough to realise they were vastly outnumbered. With their weapons they might have stood a chance but they had both exhausted their supply. _

_A hand landed on his shoulder and the fire inside him exploded into an inferno. With all of his strength, he turned on the spot and caught his attacker at the neck, his hand grabbing his pipe and squeezing till the man could do little more than choke. Another cry resounded and Deston dropped the man, turning towards Raina again, horrified to see her arms locked behind her back by a thug twice her size. _

**_Fuck._**

_What the hell was he going to do?_

**_It's simple. You know what you have to do._**

_He was out of ammunition — except for the one knife. Deston was leaning down, reaching for it even as the decision took hold in his mind. He knew it was risky, knew that he was leaving himself undefended… he just didn't care._

_He had to make this one count. _

_But he never got the chance: no sooner had he reached his ankle that a sharp pain exploded in his head, quickly spreading down his neck and through his back. The world spun. He lost control of his arms, his legs folded under him and as his body fell to the ground, Deston's darkening eyes were locked on the guy who was holding Raina. _

_And the oddest, most unexpected thought crossed his mind right before he gave in to the darkness: **if I see a single drop of blood on her jacket, I'll kill the son of a bitch.**_


	38. Bleeding Eventide

Bleeding Eventide

I submit to misfortune and fragility,

And the gullibility to be played;

But I refuse the sinful possibility,

Mistakes, by this beauty, are ever made.

.'.

_Deston's head was pounding when he finally woke up. For a moment nothing but the pain registered, alternating between sharp and dull across his shoulders, up his neck and all through his head, the unpleasant pulses coming to rest at his temples. It was when he wanted to rub them that he found his hands tied back and completely helpless to respond to his commands. Distracted by this and the memory of the attack that had rendered him unconscious, he pushed the pain aside and focused on his situation. _

_He was tied to a chair, his arms knotted behind him in a severely uncomfortable position but that barely bothered him as he recalled that he hadn't been alone. The moment he remembered Raina was the moment he became aware of the soft hands pressed against his own and though he couldn't see whose they were, he didn't really have look to know. _

"_Raina?"_

_There was silence and he turned to glance over his shoulder, seeing a mane of red hair. Just when the silence seemed to stretch too long and Deston was about to take her wrist and shake it, she spoke: "Glad you're awake." _

_Relieved that she was okay, Deston looked around at the room again. Pipes ran down the walls, some disappearing behind boilers and tanks. At the far end of the room, a steady steam was rising and dissolving into the air, its incessant hiss the only sound in the silence. _

"_A basement," Deston guessed. "Original aren't they?" _

"_They're not interested in being creative," Raina said quietly._

"_Thank God for that." Deston smirked. "If they were, they might have tied us up a little differently." _

"_Your point being?" _

"_My point being…" He looked down at his legs, thankful that they were still free and shook one of them. His smile widened when he felt the stiff texture of his weapon against his ankle. "Let's get the hell out of here." _

_Raina didn't answer but he waited patiently, knowing she was going to reinforce her independence by refusing to respond straight away. Though this was the first time he'd met a woman who didn't fall at his feet claiming to be his number one fan (which irked him more than anything else), he could predict her behaviour; when she spoke a moment later, Deston resisted the urge to laugh. _

"_I'd be more impressed if you'd stop trying to act cool and just tell me what you have planned." _

"_I have a knife," Deston explained, amused at the way she jerked against him. "You just need to get to it." _

"_I need to get to it?" She paused in suspicion. "Why? Where is it?" _

"_Not where you're imagining it, baby," he answered, laughter in his voice. _

"_It isn't?" To his surprise, Raina sounded disappointed. He soon realised why. "I had such high hopes for an accidental castration." _

"_Youch!" He mock-flinched. "I'm not used to such harsh treatment in my area." _

"_Of that," she said with a dry tone, "I have no doubt."_

_Deston blinked a few seconds as he took in her meaning and then couldn't help himself: he threw his head back as laughter exploded from his throat. He could just imagine the look on her face. _

"_Would you grow up?"_

"_Yes, ma'am," Deston said obediently silencing though the smile remained on his face._

"_Where's your knife?" she asked briskly, her tone business-like. _

_Deston looked at the space on either side of their chairs calculatingly and then, without answering her question, moved his arms. "It's a good thing they tied us to these chairs and not each other." _

"_Why?"_

_He heard the mistrust in her tone but only smiled, suddenly thrusting his body to the side, grunting at the tug the movement caused on his tightly bound wrists. _

"_Bastard chair," he complained, heaving himself to the side again. Damn but it were heavy. _

"_What are you doing?" Raina demanded. _

_The crashing sound of his falling chair greeted her question. Crushed beneath the weight of his fall, the nerves in his shoulder and arm exploded with pain. Deston suppressed the groan that rose to his throat and forced himself to focus on Raina — she was staring down at him with a frown, her large eyes roaming his features. _

_He flashed a grin at her and swung his ankle over his chair. "Take it out." _

_Raina glanced at his boot which rested inches away from her bound wrists. To her credit, she understood what he meant instantly. "You have to move closer. I can't reach." _

_Deston lifted his head, ignoring the strain it put on his arms and saw the distance between his outstretched limb and her bound hands. _

_Dammit, she was right. _

"_Let me move closer." _

_But Deston had already hooked his ankle around the leg of his chair and he was pulling, the tendons in his legs taut and constricting against themselves at the endeavour. _

"_You could just let me do it," Raina said, looking straight ahead as if he wasn't worth a glance. "Instead of trying to act all macho."_

"_Don't want you falling," Deston grunted, yanking once more on the chair. "Need you upright."_

"_It's presumptuous of you to assume I'd fall over."_

_Deston paused, smirking at her. "I'm just being cautious, babe."_

"_I can be cautious in half the time," she said turning to look down at him, one perfect eyebrow arched. "You're awfully weak for a man, Cavatin."_

_A cheeky thought flashed through his mind. _

"_Either that," he said through clenched teeth, resuming his task, "or you're just really heavy, Miss Aeron." _

_Her response was to grab his ankle, instantly halting his efforts. Her mouth was lifted at the corners and her eyes were sparkling but she said nothing as her hands curled around his leg._

"_You caught me unaware earlier," she said in a soft voice, her brown eyes boring into his. _

"_I know," Deston said, smirking. "I've never seen you lose your cool before. It's cute." _

_She tugged on his pants, pulling the cloth out of his boot and he tore his eyes away from hers, following the slender length of her arm to where her hand had disappeared under the yellow material. He marvelled at how smoothly she worked despite the awkwardness of her posture — though her arms were tied behind her back and she could barely twist her hands in the rope snaked around her wrists, she didn't once fumble in her task to retrieve the knife. _

"_Don't think," she continued, her fingers wrapping around the handle and sweeping against his skin in the process, "that your comments will be get a rise out of me now." _

_Though his body was responding to the way the tips of her fingers were brushing his leg, Deston managed to keep his smile fixed in place. "So you aren't insecure about your weight?" _

_Raina chose that moment to slide the knife out of its sheath, her movement slow and deliberate — he could feel the metal rub against his skin as it slowly left its confines. _

_He openly smirked at her subtle warning. _

"_Have you ever seen a fat agent?" _

_Deston didn't answer — his eyes were drawn to the blade as she spun it around between her hands and went to work on her bindings. "No," he said, dropping his head back against the floor and waiting for her to finish her job. "I haven't." _

"_Exactly," she said. _

_Deston smiled. Of course she was confident — with that physique, what woman wouldn't? And, as if to reinforce his thoughts, Raina pulled her wrists apart and the rope fell away; with one fluid and elegant move, she rose to her feet until she was towering over him. Now that she was facing him fully, Deston inspected her for any signs of injury, his eyes narrowing at the stain of blood beneath her lips. Instantly his jaw clenched, imagining the blow that had caused her to bleed and he moved his gaze further down to where her jacket was marked with red splotches of blood._

_**Son of a bitch**__, he cursed remembering the man who'd had her in his grasp. __**I'm going to kill him.**_

_And then, uncharacteristically, as he perused the rest of her for injuries, he found his mind straying in a way he rarely allowed — her body really was a work of art. Those legs of hers seemed to go on like flowing rivers, the dip between her curves like tiny valleys, the bare skin of her arms like rays of moonlight… the way she stood over him, her hip jutting out, invited his hands and if it wasn't for the fact that they were tied back, he doubted he'd have been able to resist the temptation._

_**How did I never notice all this before? **_

_It was when he looked up into her face that Deston felt something inside him beginning to pound. It wasn't his heart — that always remained perfectly calm, perfectly in control. It was something else…but whatever it was, was being moved by the look on her face. Her eyes, which he'd admitted were beautiful, looked beyond so now. They were brimming over with something mysterious, only made all the more mystical by the secretive smile curving her lips. _

_Something inside him gave a lurch._

"_Appreciating the view?" she asked, twirling the knife between her fingers. _

"_What a pretty view it is too," he responded cheekily._

"_You're awfully confident for a man who's tied down with an armed woman standing over him," she said, waving the weapon in her hand. _

"_We both know you're not going to do it," Deston said with a smirk._

"_Didn't I throw a hammer at you?" Raina reminded him. _

_His smirk turned into a grin, regardless of the vulnerability of his position. "When you knew I could dodge it," he added._

"_You're assuming I threw it only because I knew you would move out of the way?"_

"_Yep."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because," he said casually, "you just wanted to make a statement."_

_For a moment, it seemed that the agent had pushed the red-head too far. She stood over him, the blade still turning around her fingers as the corners of her mouth pursed and her dark eyes pierced him with displeasure. Still, the smile never left his lips and after a minute that seemed to go on forever, Raina stepped over his legs and dropped to a crouch to cut through his bindings. _

_**She's predictable in an unpredictable way**__, he thought smiling at the tug on his hands. He hadn't expected her silence in response to his provocative comments and yet it seemed perfectly in character for the woman. There was something about her, he noted, something that made him feel like he was missing the answer to a question he'd forgotten but for the life of him, couldn't recall. _

"_Are you always this lazy?" _

_She was standing over him and it was then that he realised that he was still on his back, subconsciously rubbing his now unbound wrists. "Prerogative of a Gavinner?"_

_Raina scoffed as Deston jumped to his feet and threw the knife back into his outstretched hands. Her hair flew around her as she spun on the spot and headed towards the door with a determined stride. He watched her move, his eyes fixed intently on her swaying hips. _

_**Damn. **_

"_We have to get out of here," Deston said aloud, pushing the uncharacteristic thoughts out of his mind. He needed to focus on getting them both out alive — __**then**__ he could appreciate her fine derrière._

"_The door's open," Raina said._

_The first hint of a frown touched his features when he saw that she hadn't even tried to open it. "And you know this because…?"_

_She threw him a sideways glance, her hand reaching out for the handle. "They didn't knock me out." When Deston's eyebrow arched questioningly, she rolled her eyes. "I guess they thought I was harmless."_

"_How did this happen?" he asked abruptly, gesturing at the split in her lip._

_She shrugged. "They questioned me."_

_Any other man might have followed suit and grilled her about the encounter but the Gavinner knew better. One of the first things they'd been taught during their training was, that no matter who asked what, they knew __**nothing**__. Deston wasn't worried — from what he'd seen of her, Raina wouldn't crack so easily (if at all) and he wasn't going to disrespect her by asking. She, on the other hand, was staring at him as if she expected him to do just that. Maybe the look was driven by the fact that she'd been the only woman to succeed from their group — her eyes were glittering with a challenge, an invitation to doubt her, but Deston simply flashed her a perfect smile._

"_Guess we're going out unarmed."_

_Something resembling surprise flickered in her eyes but the next second it was gone and she was wrapping her hand around the handle._

"_I guess we are."_

_Apprehension stung his temples as they opened the door and moved down the empty hallway. Raina was a formidable agent, that much was obvious, but her emotions had a tendency of impairing her judgement sometimes. Her anger at Deston and the possible loss of an opportunity to capture Romano had led her — and him — right into a trap. She hadn't mastered the art of impassiveness. _

_A smile fought its way to his lips as he imagined what Raoul would say about her: __**what more can you expect of a woman? They're caskets of emotion.**_

_Deston couldn't chastise her. He knew he should but a part of him couldn't stand the thought of embarrassing her or making her doubt herself. So, grimacing at the difficulty of the task ahead, he decided he would keep an eye on her. Raina needn't know._

_**What about after this mission**__? A small voice inside him asked. __**Somebody needs to warn her against her impulsiveness.**_

_**I'll…**__ Deston frowned when he realised he didn't have a solution to that problem. He'd come to that later. He needed to focus on getting them both out of here alive._

"_Wait," she whispered suddenly, holding a hand out to stop him. "Do you hear that?"_

_Three audible voices drifted on the silence around them and Deston turned towards the sound, his silver eyes growing sharp. He glanced at Raina once before moving to the door and leaning closer to listen to their conversation._

"_Yeah I hear ya," one man said. "Maybe the boss'll decide she ain't worth the trouble."_

"_Wish he'd fuckin' hurry it up," another grunted. "I can't take much more of this."_

"_Keep it in your pants," a third joined in. "You'll get us all shitted if you touch the girl."_

"_You call that a girl?" the second snorted. "The bitch is a sex-bomb. I'd give anythin' to see that red hair wrapped around my—"_

_A wave of fury shuddered through him right before sharp fingernails dug into his arm and he turned around to see Raina standing right beside him, her dark eyes fixed intently on him._

"_Don't."_

"_Help me decide," he said through clenched teeth. "Should I just kill him or rip his thing off and hammer it to his head?"_

_Raina's hold on him tightened and she pulled him back when he made to open the door. "I'm used to it," she said quietly._

"_That doesn't make it ok."_

"_Keep it down," Raina said softly, glancing over his shoulder at the door. "We have more important stuff to do. Romano—"_

"_Romano's long gone," he interrupted. "I can promise you he's not in this building."_

_A shadow moved across his face and for a moment his anger was forgotten; he shouldn't have been so hard on her. But before he could apologise, her expression turned brusque and she nodded._

"_Then let's go."_

_His eyes tightened. "Not before I've taught this bastard a lesson."_

"_Cavatin," she said sharply. "Get the testosterone out of your system. If you go in there, I'm not coming after you."_

_Deston held her hard eyes, knowing that she meant it — if he went in there now, she'd turn around and walk the other way. No matter how much he wanted to fling the door open, to march in there and kill the man for disrespecting her, if something happened to Raina, he'd never forgive himself. _

_**Women. They're caskets of emotions.**_

_She could make a mistake. She could die._

"_All right," he acceded grudgingly. "Fine."_

_Her eyes narrowed for a split second and it looked like she'd guessed why he'd given in so easily but didn't call him out on it. She turned without a word and Deston followed wordlessly, his entire attention focused on their surroundings — he had to get Raina out of here. _

_But, even as he told himself to focus on the task of surviving, his silver eyes were drawn to the drops of blood on the back of her jacket. His frown deepened as he wondered where that had come from, along with the vow he'd made to himself. There was little he could do about finding the bastard who'd dirtied her clothes if Raina didn't want to fight. _

_No matter how much he wanted to break the guy's legs, her safety mattered more. _

"_You don't have to worry about me just because I'm a woman, you know." _

_The perceptively unexpected words might have startled any other man but Deston's mouth curled up in a smile. "I'd never be so sexist." _

_Raina didn't turn around but he could practically see the roll of her eyes. "Of course you wouldn't," she said softly, pausing at a set of stairs. "But just in case there was a seed of doubt in your mind — there's a reason I passed all the training." _

"_A reason, perhaps, that you were the only woman to pass at all?" Deston offered. _

_As expected, Raina whirled on the spot with her finder raised to point insolently in his face. "__**This year**__. There have been plenty of women to join the SS before and there will be plenty after!" _

_Deston grinned at her. "A feminist are we?" _

_The look of mischief in his eyes must have alerted her to his intentions because her features smoothed out into a blank expression once more. __**Her eyes really are beautiful**__, he found himself thinking. __**And those lips of hers…**_

"_We're wasting time," she said, motioning towards the stairs with an elegant flick of the wrist. _

_Again, she led and he followed. There were several moments when he opened his mouth to redirect her, to tell her that maybe this way would be shorter than that but her obvious desire to prove herself was like a seal on his lips. She was too beautiful, too unique to be marred by the flush a chastisement might bring. So even when she led them into a large basement — and Deston knew she had inadvertently led them both way past an exit — he said nothing. _

"_Weapons," she muttered. _

_Silently, Deston followed her eyes to a pack of guns and instantly felt uneasy. Nobody left artillery like that lying around — something was wrong. _

"_We won't need them if we get out of here," he said like a parent trying to convince a child to step away from a fire. "C'mon. We need to go back up a storey."_

_Raina threw him a cool, sideways glance as she reached out and picked one up. Without a word of response to his suggestion, she pulled the magazine out and examined it for a short moment before inserting it back in and throwing it at him. "We were followed," she said quietly, turning around to pick up several more weapons. "Need to arm ourselves." _

"_Followed?" Deston echoed, glancing at the doorway they'd just come through. "I didn't notice anyone."_

"_You wouldn't, would you?" Raina said, throwing another gun at him. "You were too busy sizing up my assets."_

_Deston was unabashed as he tucked the guns into his waistband and caught the pair of Uzis she tossed him. "Do you have eyes in the back of that lovely head?" _

"_No," she said, cocking the rifle in her arms and looking at him with a sly smile. "But a woman always knows when she's being watched."_

_Deston quirked an eyebrow at her before glancing at the door again. "Are you sure—?"_

"_He saw us and went back," Raina interrupted smoothly. "We're going to get jumped any moment."_

_Deston felt a twinge of irritation for not having noticed this and at her for distracting him. "Why did you bring us in here?" he demanded. _

_She smirked then, fixing him with her gaze. "Ever heard the saying 'a cornered fox is more dangerous than a jackal', Cavatin?"_

"_We were cornered last time," he pointed out, ignoring the reference. "Look where that got us."_

_Her fingers sliced through the air dismissively. "We were caught unawares."_

_His eyes narrowed, the annoyance surging through him again at the twinkle in her eye. "You think this is fun, don't you?" _

_She gave him another tiny smile. "And you don't?"_

"_Not when there's nothing to be gained," he said coolly. _

"_Isn't there?" she asked, giving him an arched look. "I, for one, want to thank the guy who attacked me." _

"_I don't kill for pleasure, Aeron," he said, throwing her a dark look before turning away and fixing his eyes on the door. "And I don't appreciate that you've pulled me in a situation where I have to."_

"_This is what you were trained to do," she said unfazed by his obvious anger._

"_I was trained to serve my country," he said coldly still keeping his back to her. "Not kill like a mindless machine." _

"_Funny. Out of the both of us, __**you're**__ the one acting like a woman." _

"_And I thought __**you **__didn't want to fight." Deston resisted the urge to throw her a glaring look. "Obviously, I was wrong." _

_She didn't answer. Perhaps it was because she knew there was nothing she could say to defend herself or maybe it was the flurry of activity in the distance of the hallway that caught their attention. His body was tense and adrenalin was starting to seep into his muscles like fuel in fire. His silver eyes were fixed on the endless array of men that piled in through the doorway. The danger in the room thickened with every footstep that led their enemies to them, entrapping the two agents. As he watched the guards form a circle around them, Deston arranged his face into an impassive expression and forced his arms to hang loosely by his sides. His eyes were fixed on some vacant space above the doorframe. _

_There was no room for mistakes this time around. There were no second chances. _

"_You're like a pair of mischievous kids," drawled a loud voice. "You just won't stop causing trouble."_

_Deston slowly lowered his eyes, the laziness of their descent meant to convey his disinterest in the supposed danger. Romano was a short man — he stood at several inches shorter than the Gavinner. He was a pitiful man, the type to buy an expensive car to compensate for his shortcomings — his black hair was gelled back cheaply, his clothes of silk hanging off him pretentiously and his smirking mouth insolently chewing on gum. _

_Behind him, Deston felt Raina stir. _

"_Takes a trouble-causer to know one," Deston said, flashing a smile at Romano. "I'm surprised you're still here. I figured you'd have been halfway around the world the moment you realised I was here for you." _

"_Ah ha ha," he laughed mockingly, regarding Deston with amused eyes. "I wanted to see who they'd sent after me this time. I'd say the standards of your company had fallen if it wasn't for the beauty you're hiding behind you."_

_The muscles in his neck tautened but he kept the smile firmly in place. "That's rich coming from the man who hired these idiots." He gestured around at the men surrounding them, unaffected by the way they waved their guns menacingly at the insult. _

"_Come with me, sweetheart," Romano said suddenly, his beady eyes fixed on Raina. "You don't need to die." _

_Deston didn't move, didn't look at her even when she took a step forward so that she was standing next to him. He trusted her. _

"_Thanks," she said in a voice so gentle, she might have been talking to a child. "I won't die." _

"_Come with me," Romano repeated, his lecherous gaze hungrily sweeping her form. "There's more to be had on my side." _

_Deston felt, rather than saw her scorn._

"_More?" There was a meaningful pause in which she appeared to size the crime lord up. "What do you use for contraception, Romano? A thimble?" _

_Deston laughed. "Ooof girl, you hit him where it really hurts."_

"_Or not," she added, shrugging. "You'd have to have something there to hurt."_

_Romano's face was red with fury and his pitifully small form shuddered with barely suppressed rage. "You won't live to regret this," he spat. Rounding on the spot, he jabbed a hand through the air as he looked at his minions. "No guns. Make these fuckers suffer." _

_With this command he swept out of the room, followed by a small army of armed men. Deston finally looked at Raina, ignoring the way the men around them threw their guns aside, withdrawing knives and twirling bats in their hands. _

"_So size does matter, huh?" he said jokingly. _

_For the first time that night, Raina smiled at him without slyness, rancour or sarcasm — it was a stunning smile that nearly knocked the breath out of him. "I doubt you have anything to worry about, Cavatin." _

_All around them the men advanced, uncaring of the way that the two agents ignored them, failing to see the deeper meaning of their disinterest. Deston moved closer to Raina, his sparkling eyes on her amused ones as his fingers wrapped around her hand. _

"_Are you confessing an interest, Miss Aeron?" he murmured. _

_Raina's hand had already slipped under his jacket as her smile turned into a satisfied smirk. "Maybe," she purred, unresisting of his touch when he pulled her closer. _

_He knew that it was dangerous to show her this much attention, that she was only doing what she was so they could get out alive — but the fact that they both understood where this exchange was going made him feel close to her in a way he'd never have anticipated. The guards had paused for a moment, now bemused by the seemingly erotic interchange between the two agents. Though he was aware of their stares, he was also very aware of the length of Raina's body against his, the way she was looking up into his eyes with an arched eyebrow. _

_She was beautiful. He had to keep her safe. _

_Like a single entity, they move together: Raina gripped the gun in his waistband and yanked just as Deston spun her. Their tender expressions melted into smirks of triumph as they found themselves in each other's place, the first step of their dance to the tempo of sudden gunfire combined with the whistling of his knives and the sound of falling bodies. They descended on the men with all the force of a hundred tornadoes. _

_It was like their bodies were attuned to each other — no matter how many bodies Deston felled with blades or bullets, one hand was always free to grab Raina and spin her around, to make sure that she was always touching him, always reassuring him that she was still standing. Lithely and impossibly, she twisted herself around him like silk, her every move precise and deadly. Every time Deston turned, fearing she was out of ammunition, seeing that someone had got too close to her, she showed him just how capable she was. She was meeting her opponent's clumsy attacks with all of the grace of a ballerina, all of the menace of a tigress. _

"_**Whoa!"**__ He dodged a blow and the thug turned and glared at him again, the bat in his arm raised. Out of ammunition and with nothing but an empty gun in his hand, Deston jumped out of the way when the man attacked again. He threw the gun aside and faced his assailant who was turning on him once more. _

_**What an idiot.**_

_He lunged at the Gavinner, his bat raised high but his growl was swiftly cut off — Deston's leg flew through the air in an arc, knocking the bat out of his hand and with one perfectly aimed jab, disabled the thug. Not sparing a moment to see him fall at his feet, Deston sought out Raina and felt his insides freeze over when he found her._

_She was surrounded by seven, armed guards. _

_**Fuck. **_

_He couldn't remember exactly how the bat came to be in his hand and later only guessed that it'd come from the man he'd just knocked out. All he knew was that only a few seconds after he saw her fighting for her life, the bat was spinning through the air and had caught one of them in the head, the raised knife in his hand falling just as he crumpled. He jumped into the fray then, yanking Raina out of the way of a swinging I-beam before pulling it out of the bastard's hand and promptly smashing his head with it. _

"_Two down," he grunted, joining Raina's side as she glared at the remaining guards. Deston stared at them, noting (with an unpleasant lurch) that if these thugs had survived so far, they were clearly not so easy to beat. "Five to go." _

"_Six actually," Raina contradicted and he looked at her sharply: she was watching another man who'd appeared out of nowhere. _

"_Great," Deston said dryly as he eyed their weapons: 3 KA-BARS, 2 bats — what the hell was with those? — and two rifles. "The more the merrier." _

"_Wouldn't that be fun, Cavatin?" Raina said in amusement and he glanced at her questioningly. "To finally fight someone challenging?"_

_Deston's annoyance flared up. There it was again, that recklessness in her nature. She was treating this like a game. Not caring about being gentle, he grabbed her wrist and yanked on her arm till he was shielding her with his body. "Stay behind me," he ordered. _

"_Excuse me," she countered icily. "I'm just as capable as y—"_

"_Indulge my macho pride," he snarled pushing her back when she moved. Her protests fell on deaf ears — his sharp eyes were on the enemy who looked ready to take advantage of their bickering. He needed to take out the artillery; that was their best chance. _

_But just as he turned to look at Raina, to communicate it to her, she took him — all of them — by surprise: her arms wound around his neck and her lips were suddenly pressed against his in a deep kiss. Deston's body tightened and his hands gripped her waist in a split moment of surrender but even though he craved more, his strictly disciplined mind willed his hands to push her away… until he realised the distance growing between them was more to do with the way she was moving than his resistance: already, Raina had incapacitated the two frozen guards and relieved them of their firearms. _

_He understood immediately why she'd kissed him and he felt a twinge of admiration for her quick thinking. Trust her to use beauty as a weapon. Having just felled another man, Raina spun and caught his eye, flashing him a pleased grin. _

_His smile died before it'd even flowered. _

_The knife gleamed in the light as the thug pounced from behind and Deston felt his heart stop. The smirk had cost her. Raina couldn't see him— she wouldn't turn in time. _

_She was going to die. _

"_**NO!"**__ Deston roared. _

_He never knew how he moved so fast. All he knew was that he was by her side in an instant, had grabbed her and swung her around and the next moment there was a searing pain in his upper arm. He let out a howl of pain as the knife sunk into his flesh but he took the other's moment of satisfaction to retaliate: with one hand still on Raina, Deston lashed out with his other, his pain-fuelled punch landing on a temple._

_Unresisting of his hold on her, Raina made to fight the others who'd resumed their attack but a thrill of fear drowned out the intense pain in his arm at the sight of a raised bat. Seeing no alternative, Deston pulled her in again, spinning them both around until she was pressed against his front and he bent over her, gripping her tightly — the blow meant for her collided with his back and Deston threw his head back as another roar of pain escaped him. _

_The agony ripped through him like an earthquake, shaking his senses and clouding his judgement. His back was shattered. He couldn't move… He couldn't save her…_

"_Raina," he gasped, his arms loosening as his strength ebbed. "Go!"_

_He felt her scramble out from his hold as he fell to his knees. His mind screamed at him to stand up and fight, stand up and show them they weren't going to win that easily but his limbs refused to obey. The pain was racing up and down his spine like a poisonous snake, lacing his flesh with the venomous nips of its fangs…_

"_You don't get to die today," Raina hissed from somewhere next to him. _

_Through hazy eyes, he saw her swipe up a gun from the floor and for a moment, when she turned on the ground and aimed, it looked like she was aiming for him — but when shots echoed all around him and the thump of falling bodies hit his ears, he knew she'd just saved him. _

_Silence fell. Deston was staring at Raina where she lay on her back, her head still raised, the gun still in her hands. That was until her brown eyes turned to him and her expression softened. With blurring vision and pain-dulled senses, he saw her crawl next to him and it wasn't until he felt her hands steady him that he realised he was still swaying on his knees. _

"_Cavatin?" she muttered. "Can you stand up?"_

_His nerves were burning from the injuries and he felt the fire flash when she touched his back and he groaned in protest. "I prefer this position," he mumbled, shutting his eyes against the agony. She was quiet for a moment. He thought he felt her fingers flutter over his arm but he couldn't be sure — the pain was crashing over him like a tsunami. _

"_The knife's gone all the way through," she said softly. _

"_Really?" he gnashed out through clenched teeth. "I can barely feel it."_

_Compared to the excruciating feeling in his back, the knife in his arm was like a paper cut._

"_Alright, don't move," she instructed. "I'm getting some help." _

"_Hey," he said, opening his eyes. She was standing before him, her expression softly calm. He smiled as the thought made its way through his foggy mind and up his throat to his lips. "I met a beautiful woman tonight and survived insurmountable odds." The smile grew into a cheeky grin. "Sounds like a fairy-tale to me. Maybe a kiss will heal me?"_

_He had no idea where it came from nor how he still had the ability to flirt. Maybe it had to do with the fact that beneath the veneer of calm, there was an expression of panic and guilt and he couldn't bear to see such distressing emotions in her features. Maybe it was that it was his own way of dealing with the pain surging through him which, for a moment, only looked to be heightened. Raina was blinking at him as if she couldn't quite digest what he'd said and Deston wondered if she was going to take the knife lodged in his arm and twist it. _

_But then she fell to her knees before him so they were face to face and raised her fingers to the tautened contours of his cheeks, taking him by surprise. Her lips were on his in a kiss that was nothing like the one she'd given him before. It was soft and kind and when she pulled back to look into his eyes, Deston threw her a boyish grin. _

"_Has it healed you?" she asked with a raise of one perfect brow. _

_Deston glanced at the knife in his arm, saw the blood staining his shirt. "No. Maybe another one will—"_

"_I didn't think so." Raina was already on her feet. "Now, stop being an idiot and stay there. I'm getting you some help." _

_He teetered on the ache in his knees, watching her as she headed towards the door in a run. The cascading flow of her red hair bounced around her as she came to a sudden stop. There was a moment of silence and then she spoke: "Thank you," she murmured. "For saving my life." _

_Deston didn't get the chance to answer — she sprinted off again, leaving him to contemplate her words amidst burning pain and tingling nerves. It was true that he'd risk his life for any other man, woman or child. He believed in everyone's right to live and it was an oath he'd taken upon himself to uphold when he joined the SS. Yet with her, this woman he'd barely noticed until now, it was different. His desire to protect her had far surpassed his natural inclination to save people. Something about her had touched him, moved something in him. He saw something in her he couldn't quite understand but knew was precious. It wasn't just her breathtaking beauty — it was in her soul. _

_She had kissed him and he'd tasted it._

_She'd kissed him and bound him to her inextricably._

.'.

Wounds and scars, freely taken,

Like shadowed kisses of her memories;

Pain and doubt, gifts given,

Her remnants to last for centuries.

'.'

"_Dude, you're messed up," Daryan drawled, dawdling into the room with his usual lethargic walk._

_Deston glance at him from his bed and laughed. "So you made it."_

_Daryan gestured at Raoul who was leaning idly against a wall and Seren and Klavier who were sprawled in two nearby chairs. "These idiots only told me last night." _

_Raoul scoffed. "Yeah, it ain't got anythin' to do with the fact that we couldn't reach your cell."_

"_Daryan was probably busy charming a fan, ja?"_

"_Fuck off, princess," Daryan said with a scowl. "I was working."_

"_Working a girl?" Deston couldn't help but say — he knew how riled up the Gavinner got when he was accused of slacking off work. _

_The boys chuckled at Daryan's expression. "Listen, you shitfaces," he said eyeing them menacingly. "Pleasure doesn't cut into my work. Women are fun but work's work."_

"_Chillax mate," Seren soothed. "We're teasing."_

"_What are you, a bunch of high school girls?"_

"_No," Raoul smirked. "Just the fantasy of every high school girl." _

_Daryan threw Raoul his first smirk since entering before he turned back to Deston, his shrewd eyes running over the bandages around his forearm and slightly thicker cast around his back. _

"_So how the hell did you get so messed up?" he asked. "Aren't you meant to be boy wonder in the SS?"_

_Before Deston could answer, Raoul did it for him. "A woman." _

_Daryan turned incredulous eyes on Deston who was now glaring at Raoul. "You got your ass kicked by a __**girl**__?"_

"_Hardly," Seren cut in. "What Ray means to say is Deston got injured trying to protect a woman." _

"_Thanks," Deston said firmly. "I can answer his questions myself."_

"_What the hell happened?" Daryan demanded. _

_Deston shrugged. "I was on a job when I ran across another agent and we got attacked. That's all." _

"_How does the woman tie into this?" Daryan frowned. _

"_The woman was the agent," Klavier explained. _

"_Trust him to play the knight in shining armour when there's no need," Raoul snorted. _

_Daryan's expression turned incredulous again as understanding dawned. "You messed yourself up trying to save another agent __**because she was a woman**__?" _

_Deston raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Something wrong with that?"_

"_Did she put out?" _

_Raoul and Klavier exploded into laughter at the guitarist's blunt question while Seren shook his head. Deston rolled his eyes. _

"_You know, I think you should go for the pompadour; it's perfect for a nympho like you," he laughed. "Not everything's about sex, Crescend."_

_But as the conversation turned to another debate about the nature of Daryan's hair and Klavier once more insisted on trying to persuade his friend to forget the crazy idea, Deston's mind wandered. _

_After calling the ambulance and police, and agreeing on a cover story for what had happened, Raina had disappeared. She had stayed with him until they loaded him into the van and except for the short moment she had stood outside and stared at him blankly, he hadn't seen her since. He didn't know why he expected her to come see him. They weren't friends. They'd shared one strategically planned kiss and another she'd given him out of fun. They weren't anything to each other. _

_Still, he wondered where she was. With every day that passed and she didn't come, he solidified one promise — as soon as he could, he'd find her. And then they would talk. _

_She might have started that kiss in fun but it had ended in something more. _

.'.

Banished silences and a spilling lie,

Words, to guilt, slowly spurred—

The merest hint of a longing cry,

Cannot be found, cannot be heard.

'.'

_The welcome back was great — as Deston passed through the departments, he was clapped over his now-healed back. He laughed with them, rewarding all the women with a sheepish smile in the face of their admirations and a wink at all the friendly insults the men threw at him. Another day he might have stuck around a little longer, fleshed out the conversations they tried to start but he was a man with a purpose today. _

_He was looking for Raina._

_He found her on the 13th floor where she was talking with another man, an Interpol agent that Deston recognised almost instantly. Shi-Long Lang. They were probably talking about a case though why an Interpol agent would bring it to Raina, who dealt with more covert operations, was beyond him. Still, it didn't matter. It didn't affect his plans._

_She had her back to him but there was no mistaking that waterfall of red hair as it spilled around her like fire. As he neared her, he thought he heard her laugh and Deston was temporarily surprised by the sound. He scrutinised the scene more carefully, the knot in his stomach tightening at the way Lang was smiling into her face. _

"_We got some company here, Agent Aeron," he drawled when Deston stopped beside them. _

_Raina turned to look at him and, surprisingly, the laughter in her face ebbed away leaving behind a stony expression. "Agent Cavatin," she said coolly. _

_Deston was taken aback by the sudden shift in her mood and, more importantly, that he seemed to be the reason for it._

"_I'll leave you kids to it," Lang said before smirking into Raina's face who instantly smiled back at him. "Remember what I said, sweetheart." _

_Deston kept his expression blank as Lang reached out and gently tipped her chin. Raina laughed and then — much to his shock — reached up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on Lang's smirking mouth. "Thanks," she said. "I'll see you later."_

_The discomfort that had been swirling in his stomach turned to an ice block as Lang sauntered off. Raina's eyes followed him until he rounded a corner and was gone from sight. Then, with a significantly cooler expression, she turned to Deston who crossed his arms. _

"_Are you in the habit of kissing men in general?" he asked. _

_Raina looked impossibly beautiful in the daylight. She was dressed to perfection, every fibre of her clothes clinging to her body lovingly. The ivory of her skin shone like moonlight and her hair was even more luscious now that he was close enough to really appreciate her. Her eyes sparkled and her mouth curved into a seductive smile that tightened his insides. "If you've got it, flaunt it." She shrugged. "Besides, it's fun."_

"_I see."_

_How could he have been so stupid? He'd spent his recovering weeks thinking about her, reliving their kiss, fleeting as it'd been. He'd thought of her despite the fact that she hadn't visited him — not once — and it had all been nothing more than fun to her. _

_He should have known. Anyone who thought a matter of life and death was fun clearly cared little for much else. _

"_I'm glad you're healed," she said._

"_Yeah." He cleared his throat. What else could he say?_

"_Is there a reason you're here?" she enquired._

_**Well, honesty might work**__. His desire to always be straight-up about his intentions always left him immensely confident in himself. It was why he could look at her now and answer without any embarrassment. _

"_Yeah," he said crisply. "I came by to ask you out to dinner but I can see the redundancy of such an offer." He paused for split second, waiting to see if a contradiction would come and when all he got was a pointed stare, he continued. "So all I'll say is quit being so reckless. The next idiot might not be lucky enough to get away with just a fractured back."_

"_And an impaled arm," she pointed out without missing a beat. _

_Deston's mouth curled at the corners sardonically. "I'm flattered you remember." _

_And then, without waiting for a response, he turned away and walked off. _

.'.

Dancing desire, naked and wild,

With a burning touch meant to warn,

Breathless Beauty's most beloved child,

To wreck my heart, she was born.

'.'

_The Christmas party had been planned by Klavier. The Department of Secret Service had issued a very firm warning: anybody caught inebriated would lose his or her job instantly. They were very valuable chests of information, they claimed, and even the slightest leak of information would have catastrophic consequences._

_In other words, alcohol was a big no-no. _

_Not that it mattered — Deston was only 18 and could hardly get away with underage drinking considering the field he worked for. The stark oxymoron of such an act was amusing. _

_It didn't help that girls kept trying to thrust drinks in his hand (no doubt to get him drunk enough that he would take them up on their… __**offers**__). After all, they said, what rock-star didn't drink regardless of age? Keeping his triple life a secret was a little more stressful than he'd realised. A rock-star renowned for his ties to law enforcement had to work extremely hard to hide how tight he was with the government. If only that was his singular concern tonight though. The party might — no, __**would**__ — go by much easier. _

_In fact, he was certain life would be simpler if he hadn't met her all those months ago._

_Raina was across the room at that very moment, her body swaying in rhythm to the music pulsing around them. Her hands were lost in the hair she'd scooped up and was holding loosely at the top of her head. He could see a light sheen of sweat covering her long, slender neck. A couple of times, a man accepted the seductive invite of her body and she flicked her hips at him, her spine snakily undulating._

_Perhaps it was intimidation evoked by the raw sexual confidence of her moves or maybe they could feel Deston's gaze burning into them, could sense the danger they were in every time their hands came too close to her body. Whatever it was, no matter how much each move silently dared them to touch her, they always disappeared without doing so. _

_It didn't help that every time she gyrated, she looked up as if she knew exactly who was watching her and what she was doing to him. Their eyes met again and again but she never broke the cadence of her dance — she invited him in with every tiny move and when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, when he was about to cave in and become just like every other man drawn to the flame of her body, she turned away and the spell broke._

"_Would you go over and talk to her? It is already hot enough here without all this smouldering." _

_Deston glanced at Klavier as the prosecutor came to stand by him, his blue eyes fixed on Raina. _

"_Why?" he asked, ignoring Klavier's jab. "I'm not interested in being another orgasm."_

_The blond laughed, his face flushed from the dancing. "She really is under your skin!"_

"_What she really is," Deston said irritably, "is on my nerves."_

_The prosecutor shot him a quizzical look. "Why?"_

"_I didn't realise she was such a man's woman," he replied, watching her as she continued to dance alone. Her body had slowed down to a seductive and graceful sway and her hands were still in her hair, her eyes closed as if she was lost entirely in the music. "She revels in her beauty."_

"_And that is a bad thing?" Klavier said sceptically. "Imagine it: you would never have to put up with questions like 'do I look fat in this dress?'"_

_Deston felt a humourless smile touch his lips, remembering how she'd retaliated when he'd accused her of being overweight. "No, I don't suppose I would."_

"_So what's holdin' you back?"_

_Raoul's voice was unwelcome at a time like this. He didn't think he could handle the usually barbed comments of the Italian, even if they were in fun, however when Deston looked at his friend, the man looked serious._

"_What's holding me back," he answered calmly "is she's not interested. I made it clear that I'd like to take her out."_

"_So __**she's**__ the one," Raoul mused, following their gaze to her. "I wondered what she looked like and I gotta say — yeow!"_

_"Shut up, man."_

"_She turned you down?" Klavier questioned._

"_No," Deston said, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it aside. "But she didn't accept it either."_

"_She didn't give you an answer either way?" Raoul asked._

_When he reached out to a glass of juice, Deston saw the thick scar on his forearm and his mouth pursed at the edges at the memory it induced. "An answer?"_

"_Yes," Klavier confirmed. "What exactly did she say?"_

_He scowled. "When did we become a bunch of girls?" he demanded, slamming his cup back down on a table without drinking it. "What's next, deconstructing her sentences?" _

_Klavier laughed and slapped his shoulder understandingly while Raoul snorted. _

"_Well you better deconstruct what's goin' on over there, stronzo," he said gesturing towards the dance floor. "'Cause ya know when Daryan moves, he moves in for the kill."_

_Deston turned sharply to look at where Raoul was pointing: sure enough, Daryan was next to her, his lean frame mere inches away from hers and confidently responding to the allure of her body. But that wasn't what was causing the broiling in his stomach — it was the fact that she wasn't pushing him away._

_He jerked, one step already in front of the other before he got control of himself again. His fingers curled with the effort it took to stay where he was. Deston was itching to march across the dance floor and pull them apart, and even though he was aware of the way Klavier and Raoul were looking at him, he had eyes only for his friend — and the woman that'd haunted his dreams for countless weeks._

"_Aren't ya goin' over there?" Raoul asked after a moment._

_Daryan's hands were on her waist now and he was moving against her back, his mouth coming to her ear to whisper something. Her lips lifted in a sexy smile and she closed the distance between their bodies._

"_You should do something," Klavier suggested. _

_Deston's jaw tightened when Daryan's hands visibly tightened on her hips and he guided them to his body. Of course Daryan would be the only one to dare accept her challenge. _

_**The bastard.**_

"_What for?" he said, feigning nonchalance. "She can dance with whoever she wants."_

"_**Madre di Dio…**__" Raoul let out a disbelieving laugh and, against his better judgement, Deston followed his gaze back to her. _

_Raina's hands had wound around Daryan's neck who buried his face in her fiery hair as it fell down around her shoulders again. She threw her head back, her lips parted in a gasp. _

_Deston felt desire and jealousy mate in the pit of his stomach. _

"_Daryan will never achieve the pompadour he desires if you do not go over there and stop them," Klavier said._

_Deston was all for ripping Daryan's head off — but the way her fingers had ensnared Daryan's shoulder-length hair in her slender hands looked to be doing that for him. Raina pulled, bringing his smirking mouth into the curve of her neck; she was pushing against him and the dark Gavinner was accepting her body with sensual strokes along the curves of her legs, her hips, her waist…_

"_I haven't got any interest in stopping them," Deston said, keeping his face carefully blank for the benefit of his friends who were watching him sceptically. "Yeah, I asked her out but she's not interested. End of story."_

"_So you ain't gonna mind if I go in there after Daryan?"_

_Deston suppressed the tick in his jaw. "Not in the least, Ray." He turned to Klavier with a sarcastic look. "What about you? Do you want to jump in as well?"_

"_Nein," Klavier said with a smile. "I saw a cute little Fräulein who caught my interest earlier. I believe I might look for her."_

"_Great. Have fun." He picked up his jacket and throwing one last look at Raina and Daryan who were still dancing intimately. "I'm going to head off. I have work to do."_

_They didn't stop him and he didn't look back — if he had, he might have seen Seren appear and grin at the other two conspiratorially. If he'd stopped and really looked, he'd have seen them turn toward Daryan who was now staring back at them over his shoulder, a triumphant grin on his face even as he pulled Raina closer for the dance._

.'.

The black and red art

Lightning infernos reflect,

Long stolen is the heart

He doth vainly protect.

'.'

_The doctor had advised him to exercise if he wanted to return the strength to his shoulders and back but the Gavinner hardly needed a reason. It wasn't the medical advice that had driven him to work till his muscles were slick with sweat and screaming for relief. The strain was welcome and he revelled in it, punishing himself for the stupid mistake of falling for her. _

_The image didn't leave him for several weeks. He didn't know what had happened afterwards and he didn't ask. Being mad at Daryan should have come naturally yet all Deston felt was anger at himself. Anger that had driven him to the gym where he was now working out. _

_What the hell was wrong with him? He barely knew her, had barely spoken to her. What little he did know of her wasn't exactly complimentary. She was reckless, headstrong and sometimes even ruthless. She made bad decisions motivated by emotions and was a severe feminist — a claim completely at odds with the way she behaved around men. Sensual dances and random kisses simply for fun didn't help her image. _

_So why the hell couldn't he stop thinking about her? Why had her rejection rankled so much? And why did his insides burn every time he thought of Daryan taking her back to his flat? What should it matter what she was doing and who she was doing it with? Was he really shallow enough that he'd fallen this hard because of her beauty? Because of one kiss? _

_The thought was revolting._

_So he pumped his muscles and ignored their protests for a rest after so many hours of work. They'd told him to take it easy, not to push himself but he didn't care. He continued lifting the weights, his silver eyes fixed intently on the ceiling that was the canvas for his thoughts. _

_He couldn't be this hung up just because she was beautiful and lethal. She wasn't just a goddess of beauty — he'd seen more of her that night. His appearance had surprised her and she hadn't been able to collect herself in time. After he'd been knocked out, she'd been much cooler but still he'd seen another side to her. He couldn't identify it but he knew it was more than just smokes and mirrors. There was something about her — and it was that something that had been in her kiss. That something was the reason he was still intoxicated. _

_**Snap out of it**__, Deston told himself grimly. __**You saw her dancing with your best friend.**__**Whatever the moment was, it's long gone. Just forget her. **_

"_You look like a man with something on his mind." _

_The voice might have jolted him if he wasn't who he was — he was trained to take everything in his stride. As it was, all Deston did was lower the weight until the bar rested across his chest but he never moved from the bench, kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling. _

_**Great. Just when I decide to ignore her existence, she shows up.**_

"_I have a lot on my mind, Raina," he said calmly. "An occupational hazard of our profession."_

_The sound of her heels on the wooden surface of the gym echoed loudly throughout the vacant space. Deciding that to sit up and talk to her would simply add to the attention meter she seemed intent on filling, Deston resumed his lifting. He wasn't going to satisfy her obvious desire for recognition. _

"_What are you doing here?" he asked. _

"_Someone told me you were down here," she replied. _

"_Is there a reason you're looking for me?" he enquired and let a smile touch his lips. "Or were you looking to take advantage of the work facilities too?"_

"_I prefer to do my stretching in private." A pause. "How's your back?" _

_Deston kept his face blank as he her frame fell into the periphery of his vision. "All healed up."_

"_Should you be lifting those?" _

_She was standing over him now and even though he was still looking up at the ceiling, he found that his brain was taking in what detail it could without turning to look at her. She was wearing white today as well._

"_Isn't it a little late to be showing concern, Miss Aeron?"_

_She was still and the only sound for several endless seconds was of his breath as the bar clenched in his hands rose and fell. _

"_I'm sorry I didn't come to see you," she said softly. _

_There it was again — that moment that would have taken most off guard. But Deston simply smiled. _

"_You gave your thanks before they bundled me into the van," he said calmly, the movement of his arms still steady. "Why would you come see me?" _

_There was another pause. "To see how you were doing." _

_His stomach tightened in its first knot but still he kept his face expressionless, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I'm fine." He forced a devilish grin to accompany his next remark — just to irritate her. "You can take the sour lemon out of that delightful mouth now. Apology accepted."_

_He practically heard the steam come out of her ears. "I don't have a sour le—" _

_By the time she caught herself, Deston was genuinely grinning. Now that she'd lost her cool (and no doubt felt she'd embarrassed herself), he lifted the weight off and set it aside, sitting up in the process. Then, swinging his leg over the bench and reaching for his water bottle, he looked at her. And no matter how much he wanted to peruse the length of her body, he forced himself to focus on her face — which was currently working to settle itself into a blank mask. _

_**Hmm. I've affected her.**_

"_Let me give you a tip," he said aloud. "When you want to apologise, saying sorry is the easiest and least painful way of achieving the task. Standing around, making awkward conversation will just embarrass you."_

_Her dark eyes flashed. "And doing any more than simply accepting it will just prove what an asshole you are." _

"_Really?" He arched an eyebrow at her as he stood up. The second knot tightened over the first. "An asshole?" _

"_Yes," she said defiantly, tilting her head up to look into his face when he stepped closer. _

"_An asshole," he murmured looking down into her face. _

"_An asshole," she repeated but he noticed the wavering tone of her voice and a lazy smile spread across his lips. Not bothering to ask for permission, Deston reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of her eye, pleased when a visible tremor hit her. _

"_That's an awful lot of assholes," he said in an amused tone, ignoring the third knot as it tightened itself over his stomach, "for someone who saved your life."_

_Her eyes widened and flashed again but he'd already pushed past her and was walking towards the entrance. _

"_You're no gentleman!" she snapped from behind him._

"_And you're no lady," Deston threw over his shoulder. _

_There was a sharp intake of breath from behind. "What?"_

_The outraged tone of her voice made him stop and turn around and, at the sight of her furious expression, a derisive laugh escaped him. "Does that shock you?" he said. "Or is it just that nobody's had the balls to say it to your face?"_

"_You have no right to judge me!" she hissed. "You don't know me!"_

_Deston scoffed. "I've seen enough. Your life revolves around jumping men — either to kill them or kiss them." _

_**What the hell are you saying? This isn't you. **_

_But unbidden, the sight of her with Daryan rose to his mind and he hardened again. Insolently, he swept her frame before piercing her with his gaze. _

"_I don't want to know any more. Thanks for the offer though."_

_He was about to turn away and walk off but something in Raina's expression grabbed his attention. Her eyes were wide and he saw something in them crumble; she looked vulnerable and he saw that look again, the one he'd fallen for — it was there, clear as day and he suddenly thought he understood the courage it had taken her to come and talk to him._

_And he'd thrown it back in his face._

_But it was too late. Her face had toughened and she was walking towards him — no, walking __**past**__ him…_

_Shit. __**Shit.**_

"_Raina," he said softly, willing her to look at him as she neared him but her dark eyes refused to meet his. "Hey."_

_No response. _

"_Raina," he said a little more firmly. "Look, I'm—"_

"_Save it," she said tonelessly sweeping past him. _

"_Raina, no—" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. "Listen to me."_

"_Let go of me, Cavatin," she ordered icily. _

_He didn't straightaway. For endless moments, he looked into her eyes and pleaded with her to just stop, to let him explain why he'd been an ass, why he'd hit out at her but her expression remained unyielding. She met his gaze with cold precision. _

_**Let me explain**__, he willed her._

_Raina wrenched her wrist out of his grasp and, without pause, walked away. This time Deston didn't say or do anything to stop her — he simply watched her disappear through the doorway. _

_**She's right, you know**__, he thought to himself as he swept a hand through his hair frustratedly, his eyes glued to the exit she'd just swept through. __**You are an asshole**__. _


	39. To The Edge Of Devotion

_REVIEW!_

* * *

_To The Edge Of Devotion_

.'.

Fate and Chance conspire,

Two lovers brought together;

And with the iron of desire,

Are chained to each other.

'.'

_He leaned into the frame and crossed his arms. Deston swept her figure critically as she moved, her hands flying this way and that as if jabbing at an invisible enemy. Her hair flew around her face wildly, hitting her shoulders with every catlike move she broke. The vest clinging to her damp skin screamed of exertion and he marvelled at the tight clothes that stretched to accommodate her determined feral exercise._

"_Hi there."_

_Raina froze. Her hair swayed hypnotically against the arch of her back and for a moment she was silent. He waited patiently, watching the flow of her hair as it stilled, at stark contrast against the white of her vest._

_Her voice was soft when she spoke. "What do you want?"_

_Deston pushed himself away from the doorway and moved into the gym, his boots thudding softly against the wood. _

"_I was just with the Chief," he said, stopping just at her shoulder._

_She said nothing. The heavy rise and fall of her shoulders was the only response._

"_He…" Deston paused to stem his smile. "He wants us to work together on the Romano case."_

_Raina turned on him sharply. __**"What?"**_

_Deston cocked an eyebrow, staring straight into her dark brown eyes. "Is there something wrong with that?"_

"_Why would he do that?" she demanded._

_**Because you're reckless and he wants me to keep an eye on you**__. Aloud he said, "I don't know."_

"_I'm not working with you."_

_The words might have insulted him but all he felt was a mixture of curiosity and wonder. It had become increasingly obvious as he watched her with other men that she wasn't averse to a male partner — just him._

_**Why?**_

"_Let's be honest here," Deston said, winking at her cheekily. "If anyone should be unwilling it should be me. I'm the one who ended up with a knife in my arm and—"_

"_That's exactly why I don't want to work with you!" Raina snapped. "You'll spend more time trying to save me than you will on the task!"_

_**Hmm. Interesting.**__ Deston glanced down at his crossed arms, before looking back up and regarding her thoughtfully. "Is it a crime to want to take care of a woman?"_

"_I can take care of myself," Raina answered waspishly. _

"_Can you?"_

_Her features narrowed threateningly. "Are you doubting me?"_

_Deston stood back, his arms falling to his side as a smile swept across his face. "Show me."_

_Her eyes were practically slits now. "Show you what?"_

"_Show me." He gestured at himself. "If you can kick my ass, I'll stop trying to look after you."_

_She stood there with all of the spirit of a rebel — her fingers were stretched towards the ground, the muscles in her arms and shoulders deceptively relaxed and the look on her face suspicious. Deston couldn't help the way his eyes swept up the length of her legs to the perfectly flat shape of her stomach the vest clung to. Knowing she was watching his perusal, he skirted over the curve of her chest and met her probing stare with a challenge of his own._

"_Come on, Raina Aeron," he whispered. "I dare you."_

_The slight flicker in her eye was the only warning he had — she lunged at him and he ducked lazily, the smile still on his face as he watched her straighten to her full height. _

"_That's more like it," he laughed, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it aside. She was matching every step he took backward with one of her own, closing the distance between them both. "Let's see what you're made of."_

_Raina broke into a sprint and Deston held his ground, watching her rush him. He was impressed by her speed, barely managing to block the jab to the face. His arm took the impact of her punch and with the other he quickly grabbed her hand, but she was just as fast — she twisted in his grasp like a ballerina and suddenly he was left with a split second to make a choice: he could let go and make himself vulnerable or hang on and try his luck with her next move. When it came he almost swore — her knee shot up and had he not mirrored her, she would have crippled him instantly. Their knees collided, leaving them both at a stand-still._

"_I'd like kids someday, Miss Aeron," he said with twinkling eyes. "Try to spare my crown jewels."_

_He thought he saw her mouth twitch. She used his leg as leverage, kicking against his knee and using the momentum to carry her body through the air backwards. Deston watched, barely managing to stabilize himself, as she landed on her hands and knees._

_**She's good.**_

_Their eyes locked and neither of them moved — until Deston lifted a hand and beckoned her to him._

"_Come on baby," he smirked, waving his hands challengingly. "Show me what that sexy body is capable of."_

_Raina was on him in another moment and Deston kicked it up a notch, focusing intently on blocking her attacks as they rained on him, endlessly fierce. With every blow that landed, Raina emitted a cry of determination that only fuelled him. She came at him with everything she had and he was awed by her strength, taken aback by the ferocity of her attack as it evolved, growing faster and faster until she had him ducking and jumping and retreating._

_Suddenly, as one punch landed in his hand while the other wrist was caught and twisted behind her back, Deston pressed up against her back, his mouth at her ear. "Your offensive is good," he murmured. "But how's your defence?"_

"_Corndog." _

_Raina elbowed him in the stomach but he was barely bothered by the blow. He attacked violently while keeping his throws carefully structured so that she would always block them. A right jab blocked, a left knee averted, a swipe at her stomach evaded, a roundhouse kick jumped… She met his every attack perfectly and he could see her beautiful face intensely focused on following his every move. She was watching him, his arms as they swiped through the air at her, his legs that spun to kick her off balance…_

_And then she made a mistake: another kick spun at her feet and she stumbled, falling when his foot crashed into her ankles again. She'd barely hit the ground before he was on her, his hands pinning her down._

"_Got you," he breathed._

_She was looking up at him, her face flushed, her eyes glittering and her chest heaving as she breathed in deeply. He stared at her for several long moments, his stomach tightening in response to the feel of her body pressed against his. She was soft and warm and he could feel the swell of her chest pressing into his own. He wanted to lean down into those lips and—_

_**No, FOCUS, dammit**__, he told himself. __**You didn't come here to ravish her**__._

_But it was a lost cause. The way she was staring at him with those dark eyes was slowly undoing his resolve. They were so close he could feel her breath on his skin, hot and moist…_

_A slow, alluring smile curved her lips and Deston felt his body jerk in reaction._

_**Dammit.**_

_He wasn't sure who moved first: Raina lifted her head off the floor just as he lowered his and their mouths met in a kiss so sweet he could have sworn an angel had stolen his breath. She was moving her lips against his and Deston groaned, deepening the kiss when hers parted. She smelt of blossoms and tasted of cherries and the combination drove him wild._

_She made a sound, a soft moan that was lost between their dancing lips but it was enough. Desire flickered through him and he let go of her arms to run his fingers over the curve of her hips. Her hands instantly shot up to his hair, her legs rose to lock around his and he suddenly felt like lightening had chained itself around him. She was kissing him back with burning passion, her limbs working around him expertly, moving him…_

_And then the world rolled and suddenly the ground was at his back, cold and hard, while something warm sat astride him…_

"_Got you," Raina said throatily, leaning against her hands as her knees pinned his arms to the ground._

_Deston smiled lazily, the static still racing across his skin. He let his eyes travel down the length of her abdomen, before lifting them up to meet hers again. There was that smile again, curling the corners of her full mouth, setting her skin glowing and her eyes sparkling…_

_The lightning tightened around his body, cutting into his skin._

"_Don't try to tell me it was all just a way to get the upper hand, Raina," he said in amusement._

_She stared down into his eyes, breathing heavily, before suddenly moving off him and gracefully rising to her feet._

"_I use anything to survive, Cavatin," she said quietly, brushing the hair out of her face. "You don't need to worry about me."_

"_Okay," Deston said, rising to his feet as well. "You showed me. I won't worry."_

_Raina nodded and though he was sure she was pleased with herself, the expression on her face remained devoid of emotion. "Good."_

"_But…" One step forward tightened the distance between them. He wasn't finished with her. "I want you to admit the kiss was real."_

_Raina held her ground. "Real?"_

"_Yes," he enunciated. "__**Real**__. You felt it as much as I did."_

"_Did I." It was a statement meant to convey sarcasm, to discourage him but he saw the intense effort she was putting into retaining her mask._

"_You don't fool me, Raina," he murmured, taking another step toward her. "You don't fool me one bit."_

"_I don't have to fool you," she replied calmly._

"_Then why are you trying?" Deston asked._

"_If you want to read into the kiss, that's fine," she said with a shrug. "I figured you were a sensible sort, thought you'd be able to tell the difference between a re—"_

"_Cut the crap," he interrupted. "I don't have the patience for it."_

_Raina was watching him austerely, "And I do?"_

_Deston took another step forward and while the slow motion of it would have intimidated anyone else, she barely acknowledged it, the only response to his advance a rebellious tilt of the chin._

"_The night we met," he said, taking another step forward, "why did you kiss me?"_

_Raina snorted. "It doesn't take much to distract a bunch of men," she retorted. "Give 'em a show and their brains automatically drop to their—"_

"_That's not the one I'm talking about." Another step. "I'm talking about the other one."_

"_Didn't you hear what I just said?" she said scathingly. "The best way to distract a man is—"_

"_Don't act ignorant, Aeron," Deston said roughly, his next step more prominent. "I'm not talking about today and you know it."_

_Raina's eyes flickered but this time she had no response. She held her ground right up until Deston stopped before her. "Why did you kiss me that night?" he murmured, holding her impassive gaze._

_Her arms rose to cross themselves over her chest, accompanied by a defiant look. For a moment it looked like she would simply engage him in a staring contest, that she wouldn't answer, but then she spoke and Deston was torn between the music of her voice and the meaning of her words._

"_You saved my life."_

"_So?" Deston persisted. "People are generally content to say thank you."_

"_You asked me to."_

"_Why didn't you tell me to go to hell?" he continued stubbornly._

"_Christ's sake!" Raina snapped, losing her composure. "You've seen me kiss other men, I even kissed Daryan! Give me a chance and I'll probably kiss your other band-mates as—"_

"_Kiss me."_

"_What?"_

_Raina's eyes were round and her lips were moving but no sound was coming out and at last — at long last — she took a step backward._

_Deston moved forward again. "Kiss me," he said, his eyes smouldering, "I'm about to go. Kiss me bye."_

_All of her poise was gone, her mask ripped away and he could see the wordless protest making her lips quiver, the emotions swirling in her endless eyes._

_**Got you**__, he thought triumphantly._

"_You seem awfully shocked for a woman who claims to kiss men casually," Deston remarked, amused. He was walking towards her again and she was moving away, desperately trying to maintain a distance. "What's the matter?"_

_She turned on the spot, her hair flying around her again like a manifestation of the fire he saw spark in her eye. She scooped up her clothes from the floor, simultaneously slipping her feet into her shoes, but when she tried to sweep past him, Deston grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close._

"_I know why you won't kiss me," he whispered into her ear. "I know why just being around me sets you on edge."_

_He looked into her face, waiting for her to meet his gaze but she kept it adamantly averted._

"_It's because kissing me isn't like kissing anyone else, is it?" he guessed. "You get it too — the feeling that you're caught in a lightning storm."_

_Raina tried to wrench her wrist out of his grasp but Deston held on._

"_You're afraid," he whispered. "Afraid that you'll be reduced to ashes and thrown to the wind if you stay in it too long."_

"_I'm afraid of your cheesy lines," Raina sliced back and tried to push him away. Deston let out a bark of laughter._

"_You drive me nuts, you know that?" he said, suppressing the urge to shake her._

"_Then you know the solution don't you?" She was pulling at his grip on her arm and Deston subconsciously registered the half-hearted resistance; if she really wanted to get out of his grasp, she was more than capable of doing so._

"_You are impossible, Aeron," he growled. "You're reckless, stubborn, hard-nosed and downright difficult!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him with those unfathomable eyes. "But you're beautiful and full of fire and beneath it all there's a heart, even if you won't show it! You could have run, you could have let me die, but you stayed."_

_Raina shrugged. "It had nothing to do with—"_

"_No, Aeron!" Deston cut across her loudly, his fingers digging into her shoulders. "Stop lying to me! I may not understand much of what's going on behind those lovely eyes but I can always tell when you're lying. I've seen your loyalty." He tipped her chin up and looked at her lips, his voice growing softer. "I know how I make you feel, Raina. How can I let it go?"_

_Her dark eyes met his silver ones searchingly and he stood still, meeting her gaze head on, letting her explore his sincerity. Her expression softened, triggering a spark of hope in his chest but before it had matured, Raina broke his grip._

"_Keep running, Raina," Deston called after her as she marched away. "But you know I'll just keep on chasing."_

.'.

With one tender act,

She sets my blood alight,

With secrets wracked,

She continues to fight.

.'.

_The telling off they received from their boss was possibly the worst yet. Never before had Raina and Deston returned from a job empty and uninformed. They stood in his office like two chastised soldiers as he ranted on and on but Deston didn't hear a word. He was all too aware of her presence. _

_When he dismissed them from the office, they turned on their heels simultaneously and marched out in silence. However, once they were out of the room, Deston reached out to grab her arm and he dragged her away from the prying eyes of their colleagues. Raina followed quietly — an unnatural response for the woman — and didn't utter a word of protest when he pulled her into his office and closed the door behind him. _

"_Do you want to tell me why I just had to take that telling off from the chief?" _

_Raina raised an eyebrow at him. "Meaning?"_

"_Meaning you detracted from the mission." Deston crossed his arms forbiddingly, knowing he was pushing his luck but not really caring. "Why? Who was that boy?"_

_Raina spoke more through body language than anything else. From day one, he'd seen nothing but aggression and defensiveness, confidence and magnetism. She had the face of an angel, beautiful and powerful; the moves of a tigress, lithe and hypnotic — so when she shrugged, slipping her hands into the pockets of her tight pants as if in defeat, some of his temper ebbed. _

"_His mother was shouting at him as if he was the one who dropped the groceries because he was too drunk to walk straight. He needed help." She sauntered over to the window behind his desk and looked out. "He reminded me of myself."_

"_What do you mean?" Deston asked quietly. _

"_My mother wasn't the best parent," she answered with another shrug. "I spent a lot of my childhood running around trying to keep her from falling apart. Until she dumped me in a care home and ran off, that is."_

_Deston blinked, taken aback by the confession. "How old were you?"_

"_I was 14 when she left. Never knew my dad," Raina answered, turning around to look at him. Her mouth curved into a self-deprecating smile. "It's not a particularly unique sob story." _

_Deston wanted to argue but he'd learnt enough to know she wouldn't appreciate pity. "Why were you trying to get rid of me?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low tone. "Would it have been all that bad to let me see this side of you?"_

_A shadow flittered across her face. "I don't know what you think you saw but—"_

"_What I saw," Deston interrupted loudly, "is the woman I've fallen for." _

_Raina's eyes darkened beneath a frown "You should know by now, Cavatin," she said icily, "that I'm not impressed by your one-liners."_

"_And I'm not impressed by your wanna-be hard-ass act," Deston snapped._

"_Act?" Raina echoed. _

"_Stop pretending you're some apathetic ice queen, Raina!"_

_Her mouth curled at the corner. "What exactly do you think I am, then?"_

"_You're the woman I saw today," Deston said without skipping a beat. "The woman who refused to let me die that night."_

_Raina let out an uncharacteristically hard laugh, her features stony. She moved across the office until she was standing next to him. _

"_You need to get out of the storm, Deston," she said softly. "Get out before it destroys you."_

_He held her gaze intensely. "I don't want to."_

_A look of mesmerised surprised rippled in her features. "You should."_

_Deston took a step closer. "You're worth it."_

"_Why?" she murmured, visibly struggling to hide her feelings beneath a mask of scorn. "Because I'm beautiful?"_

_He smiled. "No," he said, shaking his head. "The answer to your question can't be found in a mirror, Raina."_

"_You barely know me."_

"_Maybe," he consented, taking another step into her space. "But I've seen enough."_

"_Enough to do what?" she asked, suddenly aggravated by his words. "Enough to badger me with every breath you take? Enough to throw yourself in the way of my insults? Enough to—"_

"_Enough to die for you, Raina," Deston whispered._

_Her rapt expression exploded into astonished horror. And then, as if he had confessed a desire to murder her, Raina turned on her heel — and ran._

.'.

Let me take you to that place

Deep inside where you live;

See now what you are to me —

And what I'm willing to give.

'.'

_Deston arrived later than he'd expected; night had fallen and the party was in full swing — a fire raged and all around, people danced to the music blaring out of the huge sound system set up nearby. The party didn't interest him; he was searching the throng of people swaying to music and, even among the sea of bodies, he found her easily. _

_She was dancing by herself, her back to the rest of them. The amber glow of the fire reflected off her hair, the skin of her swirling arms and the back of her legs… Deston sucked in the air between his teeth; he'd never seen her bare legs before but Lord, they were glorious. Long and voluptuous, and clad in skimpy shorts, they glistened with the spray of water from the sea that lapped at her feet lovingly. Dancing on her own, her arms moving around her slowly, completely out of sync with the music… She was something out of this world._

_He started towards her, his walk slow and steady, pulling off his shirt as he went and throwing it aside. His body was burning with a desire to touch her, to breathe her, to simply feel her… He needed a taste of this goddess, this ethereal spirit of beauty that had tortured him for so long…_

_Whether or not she was aware of his presence, she continued on, her movements sensual. He took a step closer, kicking his boots off as he moved: her eyes were closed, her lips parted for deep breaths. Unable to resist any longer, Deston stepped up behind her and slowly but firmly, let his arms wind around her waist._

_Raina shuddered and arched backwards. Wracked with pleasure at her response, he slid his hands down to her hips and revelled in the sinuous writhing of her body. The bare skin of her shoulders and the damp hair pressed against his naked chest sent dizzying sensations shooting through him. He waited for her to look at him, waited for her to push him away like always but she only leaned into him, her fingers creeping up the skin of his neck and digging into his hair. The move triggered a memory in him and, for a split second, he saw her with Daryan, remembered the way she had danced with him…_

_**No. **_

_He pushed the image out of his mind. He wasn't going to let that ruin this moment for him. He wasn't going to make a mistake tonight._

_Boldly, he slid his hands past her hips, under the hem of her shirt and with gentle fingers, caressed the skin spanning her flat stomach, smiling when he felt another shudder go through her. He lowered his face into her hair, inhaling the spicy scent of blossoms that always hung on the hot air of his dreams. Fuelled by her fragrance, his lips pressed into the warm skin of her shoulder and she let out an anguished moan. Liquid fire licked at his veins. And when she made to tug herself free, he pulled her back, catching her as she fell into his arms submissively. _

_He leaned in until their lips were almost touching. "Look at me."_

_She did then, revealing dark pools of relief, desire and confusion. Deston gazed into her eyes, a seductive smile on his face. He drew her in to dance and her arms found their way to his shoulders, her back responding to the hands trailing down her back. They danced like that for timeless moments, his body curving around hers passionately, possessively…_

"_Deston."_

_The whisper, no more than a waft of air across his lips, sent a shot of molten desire through him. Raina's voice was husky, filled with meaning and emotion he couldn't understand until she twisted in his arms and was looking up into his face with vulnerable honesty._

"_You were right."_

_He cocked his head to the side, his thumb running lazily across her palm. "I know."_

_Her hand trailed over his shoulder and down his arm, her gaze following the progress of her fingers until it rested at the scar. He watched her, eyes darkening with desire, as she rose to her tiptoes and tenderly brushed her lips over the raised skin. His muscles reacted, bulging and tautening with the strength of his restraint but it was when she looked up at him again, her face soft with complete surrender, that Deston felt the ground beneath his feet move. All of her masks and barriers had fallen away and her beauty was like a bittersweet ache in his chest._

"_Are you in the storm?" he murmured, his eyes flickering back and forth between hers. "Is it stealing your breath away?" His fingers curled around hers and he pressed his lips to her ears. "Can you hear it raging in your ears?"_

_He felt her shiver._

"_Has the lightning struck?"_

_She lifted their entwined hands and pressed them to her chest. "Yes," she whispered huskily._

_The physical response of his body was instant and agonisingly strong. His hands took on a mind of their own as they pushed at the shirt she was wearing and found the small of her back. Passion took over as he pulled her in, crushing her body to his. Raina threw her head back as his fingers worked on her skin and when he saw the exposed length of her neck, the fullness of her parted lips, Deston lost control. He dipped his dark head into the hollow of her throat and kissed her._

"_You're a sylph," he said hoarsely, barely able to hear himself over the thudding of his heart against his ribcage. He let his mouth trail up her neck until his lips were pressed to the corner of her mouth. "A sylph with the moves of a siren."_

_Raina swayed and he gripped her waist tighter, feeling the slender arching of her back beneath his touch. He was lost to her fatalistic caress. She was under his skin, in his blood — she burned him in a way nobody else could._

_Her fingers were restless against his cheekbone, fluttering down to the tips of their barely touching mouths. "I'm afraid of you."_

_Elation obstructed his breathing the confession but he didn't say anything. This moment was too important, too pivotal to his life for interruptions._

"_I feel like I'm falling apart when I'm with you."_

_The raw vulnerability shimmering in her skin and hooding her eyes was so naked, so blatant that Deston's eyes blazed as a fierce possessiveness pulsed through him. The bare skin of his chest tingled under the friction of her fingers and he ducked his head to look into her face._

"_Good."_

_Raina's almond eyes flew up to his and he could see a flicker of mingled shock and horror in them but when her expression melted into hope again, he knew she understood. _

"_Because with every look…" He whispered, his voice laced with darkly seductive promises. "With every touch…" His hands were under her shirt again, his nails gently raking the silken skin just above the waistband of her shorts. "And with every kiss…" He dropped one then, just on her lips, a whispered hint of a touch that rested on her mouth like a hot wind. "I'm going to shatter you into tiny pieces."_

_Raina shivered. Her body was moving against his in a natural, sensual rhythm beneath his touch; her eyes were clouded as she stared at him, enthralled. _

"_But I'm going to catch all of them, and gather them to my heart," Deston promised huskily. "And then I'll put you back together again."_

_Her beautiful face flooded with some emotion but he didn't have a chance to recognise it. She drew him down for an electrifying kiss that was terrifying, driven by untrammelled desire — Deston felt the lightning slice through his heart, infiltrating every vein, and he bled with ecstasy as she gave herself over to him._

_And when she moved against him, her fingers digging into his shoulders with the effort it took to remain standing, when she smiled against his mouth and breathed her declaration, Deston was undone._

"_I love you."_

.'.

Lingering whispers on the gentle wind,

Come to envelop and take you in:

Their haunting voices sing and chime,

Reaching through the annals of time.

'.'

"_Achtung!" Klavier laughed, dodging the smack aimed for his head. "I did not mean it, Raina!"_

_She flashed a perfect smile at him and leaned back into the curve of Deston's arm. "I didn't think so." _

_Music blared around them suddenly and all eyes turned accusingly on Daryan who was grinning wolfishly at Raina and Deston. "Hey," he said winking at her. "Wanna dance?" _

_Deston, who'd been laughing a moment ago, shook his head at Daryan's frail attempt to make him jealous. "You're an idiot, Crescend."_

_Raina glanced at him in amusement. "Maybe I want to dance with him."_

"_You're not going anywhere, Miss Aeron," Deston laughed, tightening his grip on her waist._

"_Turn it off, Daryan," Seren complained. _

_Daryan rolled his eyes but slid one lazy finger across the stereo and the music died down. He crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow at Seren. "Happy?"_

"_Leave off, you lunatic," Seren laughed. _

"_I thought you were giving us a lecture on fashion," Raoul said, interrupted Daryan's reply._

_Raina shrugged. "No use. It's not like you'll listen to me."_

"_On the contrary," Klavier persisted, looking around at his band-mates. "We value your opinion, ja boys?"_

_There was a murmur of assent and Raina turned to look up into Deston's face who smiled at her. "Go on, baby," he encouraged. "Tell 'em how uncoordinated they are."_

_Raina sighed and let her mesmerising eyes sweep over them. "Okay, here it is: you all look like any other boy band. Yeah, I know," she said when Raoul looked to interrupt. "You're the biggest boy band around and you're an overnight hit. That's happened before. The trick is to stay up there."_

"_Up where?" Daryan smirked. _

"_Your ass," Raina shot back and they all exploded into laughter. "Now, if you're done being a freak—" _

"_He'll never quit being a freak," Raoul cut in. _

"_Shut up, guys," Seren said._

"_You should all have your own colour," Raina offered, glancing at them in turn. "Deston tends to usually go for yellowish hues—"_

"_The chicken-shit colour," Daryan interrupted and Raoul sniggered. _

"_Overlooking the fact that you keep interrupting me—" Raina glared at him "I'd advise you not to insult my boyfriend."_

"_Oooooo."_

_Deston felt a warmth seep through his chest and flashed a smile at Daryan. "I feel honour-bound to tell you she can kick my ass. You'll stand no chance if she comes after you."_

"_You never give it your all," Raina said, glancing at Deston and waving a hand as if it didn't matter. "But that's beside the point."_

"_You were saying we should all have a colour…?" Klavier prompted. _

"_Yes," Raina added. "Even if it's not conscious, people respond to colour. For instance, yellow—" she flicked a hand at Deston "—usually gives off a feeling of optimism and friendliness. Definitely some of his qualities. It suits him. Combine it with his hair — black for sophistication and no-nonsense— and you have an intriguing figure." _

_Deston raised an eyebrow at Raina. "Was that a compliment?"_

_She ignored him. "Klavier, I think purple and black is a good combination for you with black being the domineering colour."_

_Klavier made a face. "Purple?" _

"_Purple is usually associated with nobility," she explained, unfazed by his reaction. "Which comes hand in hand with the leadership quality. Seeing as you're the lead vocalist, it's fitting. Black will just add a powerful quality to your get-up."_

_Klavier looked intrigued. "Interesting."_

"_And I think you should grow out your hair," she added. _

"_Achtung!" Klavier looked surprised. "What is wrong with my hair?"_

"_Nothing," she said. "But you've been compared to Grecian gods though, for the life of me, I can't figure out why." They guffawed at the look on her face. "Anyway, in ancient Greece, long hair was a sign of wealth and power."_

"_That explains Kristoph's choice of hairstyle," Klavier laughed._

"_I think you should go for green," she announced, turning to Seren. "A deep, leafy green."_

"_For envy?" Daryan guessed. _

_She glared at him. "Because he's the sweetest one of you brutes." Seren laughed softly. "Green would suit your generosity of spirit, your calm approach to everything and your reserve. Drop some red and white in your hair for humility and affection — it'll go nicely with the comforting brown of your hair."_

"_Thanks, Ren," he said with a smile. _

"_I didn't know you studied colour symbolism," Raoul teased. _

_Raina shot the red-head an irate glance but didn't answer. "Daryan," she said turning to the Gavinner. "White and blue." _

"_You sound like you've been thinking about this for some time," he snickered. _

"_Blue because you're so full of your own importance—" Raina's mouth tilted at the corners at his laugh "—and because you're a detective. White for precision and also to show the world what a cold, clinical freak you are." _

"_Damn, girl!" Raoul laughed. "You got him pegged!"_

"_As for you," Raina said, turning to him with a twinkle in her eye. "Grow out your hair. You're a rebellious little shit and this conventional style—" she waved at his head "—doesn't suit you." He let out a bark of laughter. "I'd say go all out black with your clothes. Elegance for your heritage and sexuality for your dirty mind." _

"_And my hair?" Raoul arched an eyebrow. _

"_Keep it red," she said, ignoring the patronising tone of his voice. "Strength and intensity." _

"_Is that what yours says about you?" _

_Raina's smile turned alluring and she glanced at Deston who was silently watching the exchange. "Des knows what it says about me." _

"_You bet I do, baby," he murmured, his voice heavy with meaning. _

_Someone whistled. Deston and Raina glanced at the Gavinners who were all grinning at them appreciatively. Shaking his head and ignoring their looks, he leaned forward. "What do you all think?" he posed to them. _

"_Does he not get told what to wear?" Klavier asked, pointing at Deston. _

"_He's perfect as he is," Raina said, winking at Deston. "As for the rest of you…" She shrugged. "It's up to you whether you take my advice or not."_

_The boys were quiet for a moment but Deston knew they'd made up their minds. Whether it was because they trusted her advice or because they loved her like a sister, he knew they'd indulge her. _

"_A make-over sounds good," Daryan said, breaking the silence. _

_A happy smile blossomed on her beautiful face— and Deston loved his brothers for it._

.'.

Into my darkness she springs,

The essence of my every need—

And with the sweetest sigh brings

Meaning to every drop I bleed.

'.'

_The entire office was riveted by the sight of the two agents marching through the chaos of the department. It wasn't the bruises that he sported nor the blood trickling from a cut in her cheek that interested them — it was the simmering glare of his eyes as he followed her Raina's strode confidently past the envious looks of the other women while Deston marched right behind her, his silver eyes fixed intently on her back._

_There was no mistaking the Gavinner's anger — it was a rare occasion when his eyes turned so hard and his jaw clenched the way it was. His typically laid-back demeanour was nowhere to be found in the now-jerky motions of his arms. Of course, they'd also seen the range of emotions Raina induced in him and by now, it was just a matter of finding out what she'd done to aggravate him._

_Their probing eyes followed the duo all the way to Deston's office where he slammed the door shut with startling force. The audience looked at each other in surprise and someone whistled under his breath only to be promptly hushed by everyone else. They all waited in deafening silence for the argument they were sure would ensue._

_Inside his office, Deston's patience snapped at the same time Raina stopped, turning to look at him with a scowl of her own._

"_What the hell was that?" he demanded._

"_You shouldn't have stopped me," she snapped._

"_**What?**__" Deston asked through clenched teeth._

"_Couldn't you just let me do it?" Raina shot back abrasively. "If you hadn't tried to stop me—"_

"_Have you lost the plot?" Deston incised, his eyes flashing._

"_Admit it," she snapped. "You messed up."_

"_Raina," he intoned warningly. "Don't—"_

"_Typical," she spat. "Trust a man to refuse to admit he—"_

"_All right, I messed up!" Deston snapped back. "Does that make you happy? Dammit it, woman!"_

"_If you hadn't overlooked the—"_

"_I didn't overlook anything!" Deston cut in sharply. "They weren't there when I was working the bomb."_

"_When I tried to shoot them you—"_

"_You were shooting at a couple of bastards standing over a __**bomb**__!" Deston shouted. "Do you know what a bomb is? What if you'd missed?"_

"_**Are you stupid?**__" Raina yelled back. "__**Do you think I can't shoot a man standing 7 feet away?**__"_

"_It's not a—"_

"_Oh shut up!" Raina spun away from him, throwing her gun on his desk where it clattered violently. "We were this close to finding where Romano was before you decided to lose your—"_

"_**You could have got yourself killed!**__" Deston roared, grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him. "__**Who do you think—**__"_

"_I'm sick to death of hearing this same old crap!" Raina wrenched herself free. "Would you quit trying to protect me? You just keep ruining our operations."_

_Anger pumped at his chest and not knowing how to release it without killing her with his bare hands, Deston captured her mouth in a searing kiss and all of the pent up fear and anger flooded their mingling breaths. He touched her wildly, his hands running all over her body desperately to make sure she was whole and he gathered her in his arms, letting her nearness reassure him she was okay._

_Raina must have felt his anguish because her kiss turned tender and her hands touched the contours of his face lovingly. When he broke the kiss, she pressed into his chest softly, all of her anger gone, and he sighed, his cheek resting against her hair. They stood like that for endless moments — he recovering from the terror of almost seeing her die and she trying to calm his racing heart with her nearness._

"_What would I do if something happened to you?" Deston said raggedly. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" His arms tightened around her, his hands slipping into her hair. "I'd die without you."_

"_Shut up, you stupid rock-star," Raina chastised though her own voice was unsteady. "Stop being a drama-queen."_

_He laughed roughly and dropped a kiss to her temple. "What am I going to do with you, Ren?"_

"_Calling me by my proper name would be a start."_

"_Yes, ma'am." He paused. "I'm sorry, Raina. You're right. It was my fault."_

"_It's okay," she said gently. "I know you're only trying to protect me. I love you."_

"_I love you too, baby."_

"_Des?"_

_He pulled back a little to look in her face and frowned when he saw the regret etched in her features. "What's wrong, babe?"_

_Raina kissed his hand then, her endless eyes sucking him in and impaling him on their piercing guilt. "I'm sorry," she whispered in a voice stripped of its usual steel. "I could have got you killed."_

_Deston's heart turned over at the self-condemnation in her tone, the unforgiving self-censure in her stare._

"_Hey," he said in a soothing voice, tipping her face so she was looking up at him. "There's nowhere I'd rather die than next to you. If you asked for it, I'd give you my life. You know that."_

"_You'll never die because of me, Des," Raina promised, her eyes fixed intently on his. "Never."_

.'.

A gift of the soul, whole or frayed,

To quench the hunger and the thirst;

And willingly each sacrifice made,

To banish the shadows of her curse.

'.'

"_Daryan, did y—" Deston stopped abruptly, his hand still on the handle of the open door when he saw all of his band-mates lazing around Daryan's office. He smiled at all of them, slowly closing the door behind him. "You guys having a party you didn't tell me about?"_

"_Nein,"' Klavier said from a nearby chair where he was lounging lazily. "We called a meeting to decide whether you are replaceable or not."_

"_Good thing you came," Seren added with a grin. "We're ready to announce our verdict."_

_Deston raised an eyebrow amusedly, locking his arms across his chest and staring at Daryan who was rocking in his chair, a smirk on his face, and Raoul who was perched on the edge of the desk, lazily inspecting his hand._

"_Don't I get the chance to defend myself?" Deston asked._

_Daryan laughed. "Yeah right, man."_

"_So what did I do?" he enquired indulgently._

"_You, Herr Cavatin," the prosecutor stated, "are guilty of love!" Klavier paused then, a thoughtful look coming over his face as he turned to the others. "Hey, that would make for a great song, ja? Guilty Love…"_

_Daryan continued rocking his chair, his dark eyes fixed on Klavier interestedly. "That's not bad, Gavin."_

"_What do you think, Seren?" the blond asked._

"_Sounds like a hit to me," Seren replied._

"_Raoul?"_

_The Italian looked up at them lethargically, tucking his hands into the fold of his arms. "Whatever. As long as it makes me rich and famous, I don't give a shit what it's called."_

_Deston suppressed a laugh. "Er, guys," he said drawing their attention back to him. "If you're through sentencing me, I need that information I—"_

"_We ain't through with anything," Raoul scoffed._

"_Yeah, you mind explaining why the only time we see you is when you need something for the case?" Daryan asked._

_Deston ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, guys."_

"_Give him a break," Seren said._

_Daryan smiled slyly. "Is Raina keeping you busy?"_

"_We're both busy with a case," Deston said, throwing him an irate look._

"_No doubt filling all your spare time in between with sexy sessi—" Daryan was promptly cut off when he pushed his chair out of the way of a flying missile: Deston had thrown a stapler at him. "Take that as a yes?"_

"_Damn, boy," Raoul laughed, glancing over his shoulder at Daryan. "You just don't learn."_

"_You're one to talk, mate," Seren chuckled._

"_All jokes aside," Klavier said seriously, turning to Deston. "Is everything ok?"_

_They all quietened then, watching him attentively when he sighed heavily and slumped against the closed door. "The case is tough," he admitted. "It drives me insane at times."_

"_But…?" Seren prompted._

_He looked up at his friends, suddenly feeling burdened. "But it's nothing compared to what it does to Raina. Half my focus goes into keeping an eye on her."_

"_What do you mean?" Raoul asked with a frown._

"_She's the most efficient person I've ever worked with," Deston said, frustration running through him. "Nearly a quarter of the missions in our department are successful because of her. But when it comes to this crime ring, it all goes right out of the window — she becomes hot-headed and reckless!"_

"_Why?" Klavier asked. "What is so different about this case?"_

"_She's emotionally involved," Deston admitted. "She thinks the answer to her questions are with this Romano guy."_

"_That ain't good," Raoul commented._

"_What questions?" Seren enquired._

_His expression darkened. "Her mom deserted her when she was 14," he replied. "She never knew her dad. Ren spent several years in foster care trying to find him."_

"_What about her mom?" Daryan queried, his eyes dark._

"_She never bothered," Deston answered. "A parent who walks out on her daughter isn't really worth it."_

"_Didn't her dad do the same though?" Seren said._

_Deston shook his head. "She doesn't know. Whenever she asked her mom, the woman apparently broke down saying he was probably dead, 'the life he led'. Raina tried to learn more but her mother never answered any of her questions."_

"_But how the hell does this tie in with this crime rig?" Raoul asked._

"_Research shows he was known consorting with them a year or two ago. It makes sense — it's pretty much newly-established." Deston let out a weary breath. "Now it's like an obsession. She won't leave it alone."_

"_You need to take her off the case," Daryan said firmly. "She's gonna get herself killed."_

"_That will not stop her," Klavier countered._

"_You been livin' in a tree?" Raoul scowled at Daryan. "She's more tenacious than a fuckin' tornado."_

"_I'm aware of that," Daryan said sharply. "She needs to be kicked off the investigation. I doubt it's worth her career."_

"_I'm not so sure," Deston cut in, putting an end to all their bickering. "She's way too emotionally invested in it. If she thought she couldn't trust me anymore, she might run off and I can't take that risk."_

_The rest of them were quiet then, their attention on the drummer as he rubbed his eyes._

"_The worst thing is I know she's probably not going to get what she wants," he said quietly. "The death toll since Romano's takeover has been one of the worst. More than likely, all she'll find is a dead body at the end."_

"_We will be there for her whatever she finds," Klavier said quietly._

"_You ain't alone," Raoul confirmed._

"_Thanks guys," Deston said appreciatively. "She's probably going to need it."_

"_Does she think she will find her father?" Klavier said._

_Deston shook his head. "I don't know, K. I can see it all tearing her to pieces. I don't think she even knows what she'll do if she does find him."_

"_Well, you should try and talk to her about it," Raoul said, shifting from his postion against the desk and reaching behind him for something. "The stuff I found might bring her closer to her dad."_

_Deston eyed the folder in his friend's hand. "Is that the RFID on Romano?"_

_The Italian nodded and threw the bound folder at Deston who caught it with ease. "It contains info on all his movements for the week he was at the Bellagio, including the people he met, how much he won and lost, where he slept and how many times he flushed his toilet."_

_The drummer stared down at the folder, weighing it in his hand. "Thanks, Ray."_

"_What are you gonna do with it?" _

"_Trying to track this guy has become increasingly difficult over the past few months." Deston looked at his friends, his jaw set tightly. "We need a lead on his movements. I'm hoping he left behind a trail at the hotel that I can pick up on."_

_Raoul folded his arms again but his eyes were sharp and serious. _

"_You wanna be careful with this guy, Deston," he said gravely. "The shit in that file ain't nothin' to play with."_

.'.

Sighing softly, he welcomes her in,

Whispering of a new life to begin:

Reborn now by his gentle kiss,

The Ice Queen no longer exists.

'.'

_There was one thing he hated more than anything else in the world: when Raina donned heavy artillery. The sight carved into him like a hole that was slowly filled with icy sickness, leaving him cold and apprehensive. Anybody else might have been glad to see his girlfriend so deftly protected but for Deston, it was a sobering sight. It reminded him of the intense danger they were going into — because nothing less than an invite to the battlefield would induce her to wear anything as 'brutish' as the vest she'd pulled over herself._

_He wished he could stop her. He'd have given up anything in the world just to keep her from doing what she was doing but he knew that she was just as determined. If he was willing to give up his life to keep her alive, she was willing to give up hers to find her father — and Deston knew there was no arguing with that. The pull of family was too great._

_He loved his family. Those irritating siblings he'd grown up with and loving parents that had nurtured him meant the world to him, that was true. But, as he watched her sweep up her mane of red hair and tie it back, the Gavinner realised that his family had extended without his knowledge. He loved Raina without end. She danced on his every nerve and swam through his every vein. She was driving every heartbeat and stealing every breath. She was in his soul._

"_Raina," he heard himself say, picking up a gun from the table in front of them and examining it casually._

"_Hm?" She was looking at him with those eyes that smiled even as her mouth remained sober._

_He holstered his gun and faced her fully, the calm tone of his voice belying the racing of his heart._

"_Marry me?"_

_Raina smiled then, almost unsurprised by his proposal, and came to him, as if gliding over nothingness; she pressed her ambrosial lips to his in a honeyed kiss while wrapping her arms around his neck. Deston held her, his mind smiling at the response hidden in her touch while his heart disintegrated and dispersed in his body. Raina pulled back to look into his face and the smile on her lips flowered until she was taking his breath away. _

_What had he done to earn the right to hold Heaven in his arms?_

"_Yes," she said softly._

_And when he kissed her again, he knew he had nothing to do with who she was and how she came to be in his arms — just destiny. Nothing he'd done could ever have earned him such a beautiful reward._

.'.

Be not blinded, by the mist of rage.

Beware the dangers of the war you wage.

Fall not victim, to those traps of hate.

Challenge not the will of Fate.

'.'

"_Let me look at that," Raina said sternly, grabbing Deston's arm._

"_It's nothing," he told her but didn't resist her ministrations: she was turning his forearm this way and that, her dark eyes examining the gash with clinical professionalism._

"_I need to bandage it up," she announced after a moment and Deston watched her in amusement as she walked to a nearby cabinet and pulled out a first-aid kit._

"_Just a bandage?" he said mischievously._

_Raina threw him a reprimanding look before falling onto the bed beside him and getting to work. "What happened?"_

_Deston sighed, running a hand through his haphazard hair. "We had a walk-in," he said. "I was interrogating him."_

"_What the heck did he give you this with?"_

"_There was a glass of water on the table," Deston explained and smirked at the slight curl of her lips when she glanced up from the bandaging._

"_I bet he's got more than just a gash."_

_He grinned. "Maybe."_

"_That's my man." She pulled back and examined her handiwork before looking up at him while simultaneously cleaning up the excess bandage. "Why do you think he attacked you?"_

_Deston shrugged nonchalantly while looking unbuttoning shirt. "He was obviously sent by someone."_

"_Romano?" she guessed._

"_Possibly," he answered, watching her closely. She had her back to him but he was looking for the tell-tale tension that would straighten out her shoulders and pull at the muscles in her neck._

_But she was perfectly relaxed as she marched into their en-suite bathroom and called back at him over her shoulder. "You're obviously pissing him off."_

"_A good sign, right?" Deston called back, not entirely convinced by her aloof behaviour. He'd seen her eyes alight with the fire of determination far too many times to believe she'd suddenly lost all interest. "It means I'm getting to them."_

_Raina reappeared, her hands wrapped around a towel. "Seems like you are, babe," she replied, patting her hands dry. "But don't get over-excited. It doesn't mean we're any closer to catching them."_

"_You're going to rain on my parade, aren't you?" he said with an amused look._

"_I'm just beginning to feel like it's all a waste of time."_

_Deston didn't answer straight away — he was scrutinising her expression. "A waste of time?" he echoed._

_**Why would she suddenly lose interest in trying to find her father?**_

"_Yeah," she said with another shrug of her shoulders as she came to sit next to him. Her eyes met his and he saw the first signs of the sadness that haunted her. "I have to face the truth. My father's probably dead. If he was a member, he was probably disposed of and if he was a prisoner, he was probably killed."_

"_That's a pretty bleak thought, Ren," Deston said softly._

"_I just don't want to spend all my time thinking of a man I've never known instead of focusing the man I do have." She smiled, her eyes moving down to the ruby and diamond ring on her finger. "I don't want to put you in danger for a man I'm not even sure I'd like."_

_The sadness in her voice and the defeated slump of her shoulders moved him to wrap an arm around her. He squeezed lovingly and dropped a kiss to her temple. "I love you, baby."_

_Raina turned to smile at him, the sparkle returning to her eye. "I know." She leaned into his shoulder and held his hand. "You're my family now, Des. I'm sorry I put you in danger so many times. I was being selfish."_

"_Hush," he murmured. "And I'm not your only family, Ren. The boys care about you as much as I do."_

"_Only because they're gay and love you," she teased. "They have to love me by default."_

"_Bullshit," Deston said bluntly._

"_It's not BS," Raina argued. "Half the world thinks you guys are gay."_

_He laughed. "You would too, wouldn't you?" He shot her a seductive look. "If you hadn't seen evidence to the contrary, that is."_

_Raina's lips lifted in a luscious smile. "What evidence?"_

_He laughed. "Have to prove myself again, do I?"_

_She turned her face towards him and ran a finger down his cheek, tracing the hard line of his jaw as her smile shifted alluringly. "Maybe."_

"_Minx," Deston whispered, dropping a kiss to her mouth. "Love you."_

"_You told me that already," Raina reminded him with a returning kiss._

"_I know." Deston smiled into her hair, inhaling that scent of blossoms that always drugged his heart. "Before I forget, the boys are throwing a party for us." He touched the ring on her hand tenderly. "For our engagement."_

_Raina looked down to where their hands were touching. "That's nice of them."_

_Deston saw the half-heartedness of her response and touched her chin. "You okay?" he asked, concerned._

"_Of course I'm okay," she replied, flashing him a perfect smile that softened and her eyes turning misty. "How could I not be? I love you."_

.'.

But you don't listen, you don't believe –

The casket of rage you weave and weave;

Filling it with your righteous wrath,

You lift it up and walk your path.

'.'

"_What do you think, Ren?" Klavier asked, touching his shoulder length hair. _

_Raina eyed it with a strained smile and the feeling of unease that had been gnawing at Deston's stomach increased. The arm around her waist tightened and though he knew she must have registered the tension, she never looked his way. Something was bugging Raina, bugging her so much that she was having severe trouble in masking it, and Deston found himself growing alarmed._

"_It's looking better, K," she praised. _

"_And this?" he prodded, pulling on his plum-coloured jacket. "Is this the type of purple you had in mind?"_

"_K," Deston said. "I thought you guys threw this party in honour of our engagement?" _

"_All the guests have left!" Klavier said, gesturing around at his lake-house. "Now we can chill, ja?" _

"_Dude," Raoul called from his sprawled position on the sofa. "Where's Daryan gone?"_

_Seren paused in his task to clear up the mess from a table and turned to him with a look of distaste. "He's upstairs with a girl."_

"_A girl?" Klavier said sharply._

_Raoul laughed. "Don't know why I even asked." _

"_How long has it been?" Deston added. _

_Seren's mouth pursed. "Long enough that it would be unsafe to interrupt him." _

"_You should have stopped him!" Klavier looked at the ceiling as if searching for his friend. "__**Hundsfott**__."_

"_I tried," Seren claimed. "The sod wouldn't listen."_

"_Achtung!" Klavier snapped. "Could he not contain himself for one night?" _

_Raina slipped away from Deston and he looked at her with a frown; she was heading towards an archway to the stairs. "Ren?" Deston called warily, starting after her. "Where are you going?" _

"_To do what you're all too scared to do," she called back over her shoulder. _

_Deston jumped forward and grabbed her hand, laughingly pulling her back from the archway. "No, babe. You're not going up there." _

_One perfect eyebrow arched. "What?"_

"_Just leave him alone," Deston advised. "We'll deal with him when—"_

"_No," Raina said sternly. "I saw who he went up with. She's not a good person."_

"_That's Daryan's problem," Deston retaliated just as firmly, pulling her away from the exit._

"_Oh grow up," Raina scoffed. "It's not like I haven't seen a naked man before." _

_Deston's neck tensed. "That does not mean you should add more to the list."_

"_Fräulein," Klavier said. "Daryan is only in it for the physical pleasure. The only good he is interested in is her performance in bed."_

_The fire in her eyes flared. "That's disgusting."_

"_Maybe," Raoul shrugged. "But that's Daryan." _

"_Well, I'm going up there to give him—"_

_Deston pulled on her wrist again. "Raina, I said no." _

_She fixed him with a cold stare. "Afraid I'll like what I see?" _

_The muscles in his neck tightened and he took a deep breath to neutralise the dread that was beginning to claw at the lining of his stomach. "Raina," he said in a steady voice. "You can shout at Daryan all you want — when he's fully clothed and decent." _

_Her mouth curled in an unexpected sneer. "Your insecurity is very unappealing, Deston." _

"_Raina," Seren interjected softy. "He's saying it for you." _

"_Oh spare me," Raina shot at him scornfully. "I'm not a virgin." _

_Deston could see it happening again — all those barriers he'd spent months tearing down had suddenly reappeared and he didn't know why. She was staring at him with those eyes again, the ones that said he was no different from any other guy. _

_**I knew better then**__, he thought looking down at the engagement ring on her finger. __**And I know better now.**_

"_Raina," he said quietly, looking her in the eye. "I don't want to argue with you." _

"_Then you should let me go," she replied icily. _

_His neck was throbbing with the strain of remaining calm. Lord but she could push his buttons. "You are not going up there," he said resolutely. _

"_You can quit being so paranoid." She quirked an eyebrow. "I know Daryan's better… __**endowed**__ than you."_

_Deston felt her words like a punch to his gut and behind him, someone sucked in a sharp breath. _

"_Raina!" Klavier sounded shocked. "What are you saying?" _

"_I haven't cheated on you," Raina said dismissively. "But I slept with Daryan before I met you. The point is get over it. If size mattered, I wouldn't be with you." _

"_Has she been drinking?" Raoul barked, shooting up to his feet._

_No, she hadn't been drinking. Deston knew because he'd been watching her all night and the unease that had developed over the night exploded into outright nausea. It wasn't what she was saying that got to him — he recognised the lie in her words. It was the fact that she was making desperate, hollow jabs at him, that she seemed intent on fighting with him. _

_What the hell was she playing at now?_

"_Let go of my hand, Deston," she ordered. _

"_No," he replied in a hard voice. "Not until you tell me what you're up to." _

"_Up to?" Raina echoed. _

_Never had he used the full force of his strength on her but now, angry and frustrated by this sudden burst of her former iciness, Deston pulled so hard that even she could not stop herself from stumbling into his arms. _

"_I love you," Deston bit out, clamping her in his embrace. "And you're a fool if you think I'll fall for this bullshit."_

"_You're right," she agreed but far from feeling the relief he should have, his insides dropped sickeningly — she was staring at him coldly. "I should just be honest." _

_He didn't give her a chance — his mouth crushed hers in a fierce kiss meant to numb her mind and destroy her words. There was no way she was going to say anything else. He would not allow it. Whatever was going through her mind, he'd push it right out. _

_But Raina wasn't responding. Her soft body, always so responsive to his touch, was now limp in his arms, her lips unmoving beneath his. _

"_Raina," he murmured against her mouth, feeling desperation flooding through him. "Whatever it is, we can talk about this."_

_But instead of the acquiescence and submission he'd expected, he got an unyielding silence. He moved back to look into her eyes but she was staring over his shoulder blankly, as if he was an uninteresting piece of furniture, as if she wasn't just about to rip his heart out and throw it aside._

"_I don't love you, Deston."_

_He reeled. The shock loosened his hold on her and Raina took advantage of the moment to step back, letting her almond-shaped eyes finally meet his calmly. _

"_I only thought I loved you," she continued, her voice steady. "But the thought of spending my life with you—" She shook her head as if she was trying to expel the thought. "I can't do it."_

"_Raina—" Klavier's voice sounded far away to Deston's ears. "What is going on?"_

"_How can you say that?" Raoul demanded. "We've seen you with him, there ain't no—"_

"_I'm an agent for the SS, Raoul," she said curtly. "Faking emotion is a big part of my job." _

_She was staring at him as she spoke. Her eyes, which had so often looked on him with sparkling love, were now devoid of all emotion. Deston felt himself freeze, felt the anger beginning to coat the ice around his heart with black mist. _

"_Yes," he added in a brittle tone. "Faking it is a big part of our job."_

_Raina began to take the ring off but Deston held up a hand, halting her. _

"_Do it where I can't see you," he said coldly. "If you try and give it to me now, it'll ruin your grand exit."_

_Something flickered in her eyes. "I'm not trying to create a drama, Deston."_

"_Of course not," he said. "At least you had the courtesy of doing this in front of my friends and not the whole party." _

_Raina was unashamed. "You forced my hand," she said in a clear voice that carried all around him like a snake. "I didn't want to do it like this." _

_Silence dominated the room. The other Gavinners watched, stunned into silence while Deston and Raina stared at each other. Her eyes were pulling him in and even now, the endlessness of their depths were cracking the ice. The cold splinters stabbed into his heart and he began to bleed. When Raina turned on her heel suddenly and made her way to the door, Deston felt drowned by memories, inexplicably remembering the child she had helped, the kisses they had shared and the wounds she'd tended. _

_**No! I can't lose her! **_

"_Raina!" he called after her, uncaring of the acute desperation finally spilling into his voice. "Please, talk to me."_

_A few steps from the door, she stilled. He watched her, waiting for a sign, for anything that would prove she was all doing this for some mad reason that she still loved him and he could win her back…_

"_There's nothing to talk about, Cavatin," she answered softly, dashing all his hopes. "Nothing at all." _

.'.

I'm torn and still aching,

Each morning I wake;

My heart is still breaking,

With every breath I take.

','

"_You aren't even gonna bother to find out what—?"_

"_Drop it would you?" Deston snapped at Daryan, his eyes sharp with anger. "She made it clear there's nothing to salvage."_

"_I never slept with her," Daryan argued. "She's lying for—"_

"_I know."_

"_Then why the hell are you letting her get away with these lies?" Daryan snapped. "It's obvious there's more to it than just—"_

"_Daryan," Klavier cut in quietly, seeing the look on Deston's face. "Leave it be."_

_Thankfully, despite his anger, Daryan fell silent. Deston turned away from his friends and let his expression falter into fatigue. He knew he didn't have to hide his emotions from them but something inside him wasn't ready to see the defeat in their eyes because it would only reinforce her absence. His head dropped between stooped shoulders and he suppressed a groan when her face appeared, hovering on the air before him._

"_I would try and talk her around," he said quietly, ignoring the throbbing in his chest that had become his companion of late. "But it feels like…"_

"_Like what, Des?" Seren asked._

_**Like she was never really mine.**_

.'.

She shunned the world for Death,

Accepting His invite of sleep;

And with the last of her dying breath,

Gives him a wound so deep,

That no matter how much he tries,

Bleeding open it will remain;

And no matter how many times he dies

Nothing will dull the pain.

'.'

_Klavier was the first one to enter his office, followed swiftly by the other three. Deston was busy working so he didn't look up at them, didn't see their pale faces, pinched with horror and disbelief. He continued on writing, having identified them from the multiple colours he saw — the colours __**she**__ had chosen — in the periphery of his vision, completely oblivious to the thickness of their silence. _

"_Deston."_

_It was Klavier's voice that caught his attention. The usual smoothness of it was so cut up and made rough with emotion that he paused then, looking up at him with a frown. The shock layering his friends ragged faces set off a million alarm bells inside his mind and for a moment he could do nothing except sit there and stare at them, his analytic mind trying to guess the reason behind their expressions. But it was no use. He'd never seen them look like this before._

_It scared him. _

"_What is it?" he demanded, out of his seat in an instant and marching up to them. "What's wrong?"_

_It hadn't even occurred to him that their drained, white faces might have something to do with the one person he'd been thinking about for weeks. So, when Klavier said her name, Deston felt the acid rise to his throat. _

"_What about Raina?" he demanded in panic, taking his friend by the shoulder and shaking him. __**"Where is she?"**_

_Klavier's expression crumbled into excruciating anguish and Deston felt the ground beneath his feet rock. He glanced at the others, their tortured faces surrounding him suffocatingly. _

"_Deston," Seren said hoarsely. "You need to come with us."_

_And in that moment, he tasted death. It was bitter in his throat, rising from the sea of blood he'd gathered over the weeks. It was metallic and poisonous and it scraped against his flesh like a knife, cutting into his soul._

_.'._

_He couldn't recognise her. _

_The hunk of meat on the table before him bore no resemblance to the woman they claimed she was. Her skin, which had once burned with moonlight, was now charred beyond recognition, her reddish tresses nowhere to be found. Her body, once so voluptuous and fragrant was shrivelled disgustingly like a mass of clay that had been cast aside after an experiment gone wrong. The chest that had once beat with life and passion was mutilated and Deston's lifeless eyes ran over the letters etched there, his brain barely registering their form. _

_This wasn't her. _

_And yet it was. _

_The ring… the ring had still been on her finger. The ring with his name. It had been on her finger when they found her body. He had told her to take that ring off. She hadn't taken the ring off._

_It was her. He was staring at her corpse. _

_**No. **_

_Deston turned away from her body. He closed his eyes._

_And remembered nothing more._

.'.

Finally, a dense mist on lashes,

From the rain of her dreams;

All of his hopes turn to ashes,

All of his laughs turn to screams.

'.'

_They were all there when it came. Raoul was the one to accept it from the courier; he didn't look at it as he shut the door and made his way back to the room where the rest sat in silence. They'd found Deston drunk with grief the day before and had refused to leave his side since. _

_It wasn't until he stepped over the doorway and turned the letter over in his hand that Raoul froze. They all looked at the Italian, attentive of the sudden stiffness of his body and the torn expression on his face. His sharp eyes flashed to Deston who was staring at him dully. Upon seeing his friend, the young agent turned away and slumped against his sofa, waving a hand limply. "Leave it aside."_

_Raoul glanced at the others before turning his gaze back to Deston. "You should read this."_

_He didn't bother answering. His eyes closed of their own accord and in the darkness, he saw her face again as it used to be — the smile was there, the sparkle in her eye when she said something particularly mischievous. He could see her thrust her hip out, planting a hand on it teasingly while she beckoned him in with her silence. _

_She was still alive. She wasn't gone._

_So why did he feel so empty?_

"_Deston," Seren said, his gentle voice breaking across his thoughts like rocks on water. "You need to see this."_

"_Fuck's sake," he mumbled. "I'm not interested."_

"_It's from Raina."_

_His bloodshot eyes flew open and within seconds he'd ripped the envelope out of Raoul's hands. Savagely he tore it open, a triumphant hope rising in him: he'd __**known**__ she was alive. How could she have died so easily? It was impossible. She was indestructible, immortal — and the proof was in his hands. If she was sending him a letter, she was alive. She must be somewhere, for whatever reason and that she'd contacted him meant she still loved him, she wanted to be with him…_

_But even as he focused on the words, he found his sight blurred from endlessly sleepless nights, from inebriation and tiredness. He blinked and squinted and rubbed his eyes violently before fiercely thrusting the paper at Raoul. "Read it out."_

_The red-head took it from him with firm fingers and Deston stood before him, his gaze fixed hungrily on the Italian as his ears strained to hear the words when he began to read. _

"_Deston—" _

_He closed his eyes then and Raoul's voice melted into the tinkle of her voice — it was almost as if she was standing next to him, whispering the words into his ear. And she would be soon. He would find her — wherever she was — and he'd be with her again._

"_For the past year, you've been the best friend I've ever had. No matter how difficult our beginning was and despite the stress I accused you of causing me, your presence was the greatest gift I've ever had. You looked after me without showing me but I always knew. I saw the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn't looking. I felt the way you moved against me when you thought I was in danger. I told you once that I could take care of myself and at the time I meant it — but I was wrong. I would have spiralled into madness and misery these last few months if it wasn't for you. _

"_I know that my words are probably at complete odds with the stuff I threw at you the last time we spoke. I don't know what I said because at the time I'm writing this, you're asleep. You took me out to that restaurant I insisted I didn't want to go to because it was so pretentious but you saw right through that lie didn't you? You dragged me there tonight and never once let on that you knew exactly how much I wanted it. We stayed until midnight and then you brought me back home and made me feel like the most beautiful woman alive. You're exhausted — through no fault of mine, you insatiable man — and I'm watching you sleep. I'm watching the way your eyes move under sleepy eyelids sometimes and the gentle rise and fall of your chest. I'm measuring the pace of your breathing and I'm listening for each sigh that comes from your lips that I just kissed. There are some memories that a woman wants to burn into her mind forever and this is one of them."_

_Deston felt it then — the first welling of emotion in his chest after weeks and weeks of emptiness. It bubbled inside him hot and needy but he threw his head back and continued to listen. _

"_I don't know what I'm going to say to you in our fight, Des. I want you to know whatever it is, it's not true. If I told you I don't want to be with you, I was lying. If I told you that you're not what I want in a man, it wasn't true. And if, by some miraculous degree of strength I told you I didn't love you, it was a desecration of my soul. _

"_I didn't know what it was to live until I met you. Loving you brought me to life and I am endlessly thankful for it. With you I found myself. I found a family with the boys and a home in your heart. You've all given me more love than anyone else has a right to expect and even if I tried, I couldn't repay you. I know, you'd all tell me there's no such thing as repayment in love but I doubt anyone has ever been so deeply in debt to the ones they loved. If you guys read this too, I want you to know I'm grateful. Infinitely grateful. Thank you."_

_Raoul stopped then. He was blinking hard, his mouth stretched into a thin line and he was staring at the letter in his hands wordlessly. Shaking his head, he handed the paper to Daryan who took it between his fingers without a word and continued._

"_You just turned over, Des. Your hair is falling over your forehead, into your eyes. I love this look on you. It's so boyish, so young and odd because I've seen the wisdom and maturity in your eyes. It's one of the things I love about you — you always act so cheerful but your mind is always working. Your values have left me speechless on more than one occasion though I never allowed it to come through. You've been an inspiration to me. You always told me I was beautiful and clever and humble but if I was any of those things, it's because of you._

"_I've always known you were special. Even when we were training and you were the only man not drooling over me, I knew you were different and I told myself then that I would stay as far away from you as possible. I never thought I'd end up trying to make you stay away. _

"_But when I really realised just how special you were was the night we met. You were so compassionate — even in the face of all those thugs and my mistakes. I was to blame but you almost died for me when you didn't have to. You pulled me in and you shielded me like I was the most precious thing in the world, so precious in fact that you risked being crippled for life._

"_I liked you before — I never told you that before did I? — but I fell in love with you that night and it scared me. And yet no matter how hard I tried to hold on to my sense, I kept on falling. No matter how hard I ran, I kept returning. It's not like you gave me a chance, did you? With your charms and your smiles, your promises and your honour… I stood no chance._

"_To my friends, the guys who accepted me into their family and their hearts when I had nobody else — thank you. As obnoxious and annoying as I accused you of being, you were the best friends I have ever had. You spoiled me like a sister, humoured all my requests and encouraged me in all my endeavours. You were patient and caring and no matter what I said to you, no matter what insults I threw your way, you always rewarded me with a smile and a kind word. Your loyalty and love for each other has been a true inspiration. Stay that way, always. I love you guys and wish you all the success in the world. _

"_I don't know where I am when you're reading this. Considering what I was setting out to do, I doubt I'm still around. I've always been proud and stubborn but as I write this, there's not an ounce of either in me. Please forgive me for whatever I said to you, for whatever pain I put you through. I only did it because I can't imagine a world without you. What I'm setting out to do is __my__ fight — I started this, I stirred this situation into the mess it is now because of my obsession with a parent I've never seen. I know the only reason you never reported my indiscretions was because you wanted to keep an eye on me, keep me safe, but I can't allow you to suffer because of me._

"_If I'm still around… then please come find me. I'll be waiting for you with a watery smile and an open heart._

"_But if I'm no longer around, please don't think I'm gone. I'm always with you. I'm always watching over you. And I'm always loving you."_

_.'._

_The silence sliced through him painfully. His heart was screaming in the fire of grief and every sinew in his body felt torn. A howl of pain was rising in his throat and Deston fell back, the denial ripping from him like the lightning across ravaged skies. The agony thundered through him and he was scattered in the storm of his loss, strewn across the barren land of his life._

_And at long last, the tears came._


	40. Drawing The Line

Well, hello there guys! Long time no see. It's been over 2 months hasn't it? I'm sincerely sorry for that. I had some stuff going on which hindered my progress on this chapter.

If you've made it this far, you're a legend. Chapter 40 is the last chapter of Moving Shadows and thus the end of Part II of Nightfall. I was (as always) disappointed with this chapter but I didn't feel I could do much more to this without taking another month. I was a little rusty from not writing for about a month and a half so forgive me if this isn't up to my usual standards.

I'm not going to say much more as I'm sure you'd all rather read this chapter but I wanted to say as compensation for my late update, I will also be publishing Part III, Nightfall: Weeping Moonlight in less than 24 hours. So be sure to look out for that.

Anyway, I'll see you over on PART 3! And please, leave me a review. I need them now, more than ever!

* * *

Drawing The Line

.'.

The agents of night do observe—

Sole witnesses to silent crimes;

And fallen angels do reserve,

Desperate measures for desperate times.

'.'

Ema tiptoed through the room, having seen Raoul's sleeping form on the sofa. She glanced his way as she passed and felt a twinge of pity at the tiredness evident in his face. The dark shadows under his eyes and unkempt hair framing his face was uncharacteristic of him but he wasn't the only one; Klavier and Seren had also been more haggard than she'd ever seen them.

Raoul stirred suddenly and Ema's head turned sharply to look at him but he was still asleep. Thankful she hadn't woken him, Ema continued on until she was at another door and, as quietly as she could, knocked. She waited for a split second before wrapping her fingers around the doorknob and twisting it.

"Deston?" she called softly, peeking into the room.

The floors had been cleaned up and the clutter of mess that had been there two nights ago was gone. Ema closed the door behind her quietly and moved further in, passing under the archway that led to his bedroom and there she found Deston; he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head bowed into his hands defeatedly. Her heart sank at the sight and she tried to control the sorrow that was constantly at the back of her throat these days.

Hearing her footsteps, Deston's head rose from his hands and he looked at her, tired and surprised. "Ema."

"Hey," she said with a smile. "Thought I'd pop in and see how you're doing."

There was a stretch of silence in which the events of the past week flashed like an awkward memory and both of them glanced down at his arm where, under the white bandage, he'd carved in those two initials that had scared them all. After cleaning his wound, they'd discovered those damning initials that had alarmed them all: _R.R. _

For a while they'd believed Irina was responsible, that the move had been made to tip him over the edge of an already precarious cliff… until Deston had admitted the truth.

He'd done it to himself.

Of course, the first response to his admission had been _"why?"_ and though he hadn't replied straight away, the answer became clear as each day passed by — Ema saw the flash of furious determination whenever he glanced at his arm. They all saw the rage that filled his eyes and they knew who he was thinking of, what he wanted… and it worried her. It worried all of them.

He'd told them it was okay, he'd had a lapse and that he was strong enough to do this now. He told them he understood that Raina was gone and it wasn't revenge he wanted — it was justice.

The problem, as Seren had quietly pointed out in private, was that there was a very fine line between the two.

"Where are the guys?" Deston asked now, breaking the silence.

Ema glanced at him before gesturing towards the archway vaguely. "Raoul's asleep downstairs and Seren's in the kitchen. Klavier's gone to see Daryan."

He ran a hand through his hair almost guiltily. "How's Tess doing?"

Ema paused for a moment before answering, distracted by the dark shadows under his eyes. "She's much better, thanks to you. The doctors say she's recovering steadily."

The shadows on Deston's face dissipated momentarily as his cheeks lifted in a slight smile. "Finally," he said, exhaling deeply. "Some good news."

"How did you get hold of a cocoon so fast?" It wasn't the question she wanted to ask but it would do for now.

A sigh escaped him and the shadows returned with vengeance under the force of his scowl. "The Chief Justice managed to procure some from the Borginian government."

"The same one that was brought up in Daryan's trial?"

He nodded. "I went to him on the off-chance he still had some of the cure left. He did."

"Wait, how did he get it?" Ema interrupted, puzzled. "They've banned the exportation of cocoons."

Deston let out a harsh laugh. "He's the Chief Justice, Ema," he answered, his eyes hard. "He can pull a few strings and make anything happen."

Ema might have joined in with his outrage at this blatant imbalance of fairness but, in all honesty, that was nothing compared to the hard set of his jaw, the sharp lines around his mouth. She had glimpsed this side of her friend's personality even before his explosion at Rafael but it was surfacing with an increasing regularity that left her severely uncomfortable. Yet, even though she was unsettled by Deston's hidden sarcasm and simmering anger, Ema felt not the slightest bit compelled to distance herself from him.

"So he simply had some of the cure left over?" Ema continued. "And he just gave it to you?"

"Like hell he just gave it to me," Deston snorted. "He didn't care about saving Tessa. He wanted to keep it for himself — just in case."

"How did you get it then?"

Deston must have heard the wariness in her voice because he looked at her then, ghostly amusement in his eyes. "I threatened to beat him up with my drumsticks."

Though his expression brought relief to her concerned mind, Ema scowled. "The truth would be nice."

The merriment in his face heightened. "That _is_ the truth," he said with a smile. "I threatened to beat him up with my drumsticks."

Ema felt her eyes widen. "You threatened the Chief Justice?"

Deston shrugged and leaned back against the wall, lifting on leg onto the bed and throwing an arm over it. "It's possible to hurt a man without leaving marks and he knew that if I made good on that threat, he wouldn't have any proof against me."

"You were going to torture the Chief Justice?" she gasped.

He laughed then, obviously amused by her expression and even amidst her shock, Ema felt absurdly pleased to be the reason for it.

"Relax, Ema," he told her gently. "I wouldn't have hurt him. Just used the threat of violence. Besides," he added, leaning forward again, "the old man's a selfish bastard. He doesn't deserve any sympathy."

Ema quietened seeing the gaiety fade from his features. She'd learnt that Deston's moods were unstable when he was like this: he could easily switch from regaling conversation to dark riddles. They'd warned her, told her to be ready for it.

And after learning about his past, she couldn't blame Deston for it.

"You can talk to me about it, Ema," he said suddenly, as if he'd read her mind. The detective glanced at him and found his stormy eyes fixed on her with inviting intensity. "I'm pretty sure they told you about… us."

Ema bit her lip, unable to deny it. "Did you not want me to know?"

"Why wouldn't I want you to know?" he said quietly, with a tired smile.

She shrugged. "Maybe because it hurts too much."

"Maybe…" Deston said, slowly nodding his head and turning to look out of the window beside his bed. "But trying to forget it all as if it never happened… that's worse."

"She'll never be forgotten, Des," Ema said and winced almost straight away when she realised what the nickname would remind him of — but instead of looking pained, his face softened.

"You're a lot like her, you know," he said, startling her.

"Like her?" Ema laughed incredulously. "She makes my Snackoo attacks look tame."

Deston laughed. "She was mad that day."

Ema frowned. "Huh?"

He waved a hand at his desk where his laptop lay shut. "The video, the one you found me watching."

"Oh." She paused. "Why was she mad?"

"I told her there was no point sparring because she would kick my ass."

"And that made her mad?" Ema asked, bewildered.

"Well, Raina always said that I never gave the fight my all," he explained, smiling slightly. "The thought that I was holding back riled her up."

"Did you?"

There was a moment of pause in which he shifted again; his leg dropped back to the ground and he leaned forward, his elbows resting against his knees. The smile was still on his face. "To tell the truth," he said, turning his face to the side and looking up at Ema, "I didn't really need to. She was quite capable of kicking my ass."

"That's not _really_ an answer." Ema smiled.

He laughed again. "Another similarity: both tenacious as hell."

"Did you hold back?"

Another pause followed her question and they both stared at one another. Deston was sweeping her features, his own pulled together soulfully. And then—

"Yes."

"I don't blame her for being annoyed," she said, her expression turning snooty.

"Ema," he laughed quietly. "I didn't doubt her ability — just her strength."

"Excuse me?" she said, feeling affronted for Raina. "Her _strength_? Didn't she kill a bazillion men?"

"They weren't trained to her level, babe. I was."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," he explained patiently, "that I possessed the same skills as her. She always had the advantage over others because she was trained in a way they weren't. _But_," he enunciated when Ema looked ready to interrupt, "Rain and I were equal on all grounds except one — strength. My biological make-up meant _I_ was always at an advantage."

Ema bristled. "She could have worked her way around that," she argued. "She could have surprised you."

"No doubt about that," Deston said with another, softer laugh. "But I didn't want to take the chance."

"Arrogant berk," Ema muttered. "I don't believe you could have landed even a single blow."

"Hang on," Deston argued, his back now ramrod straight. "I'm not being arrogant, I'm just being honest. I didn't want to risk hurting my girlfriend."

She knew exactly what he was saying but arched an eyebrow at him if only because she know it would keep him talking. His silence had been deafening and seeing him talk again after so many days was a relief beyond what she could have imagined. Ema wasn't going to give it up so easily.

"C'mon," he protested. "If Klavier was in my position, he'd do the same. It's not because he doubts you, it's because he treasures you. He worships every inch of you. He loves you."

She would have argued that point as Klavier had said no such thing but the look on Deston's face stopped her. His features were falling under the shadow of grief again and she reached out to cover his hand with hers. Maybe she should have said something to comfort him but the truth was Ema could think of nothing that might have made him feel any better. So, she just sat next to him silently, keeping quiet when he squeezed her hand back and dropped his head.

"She was like that for me, Em," he said quietly. "I loved her with every breath."

"I'm sorry, Deston," she said and the words sounded so mechanically conjured that she winced and laced her fingers through his in compensation. If he noticed her reaction, he didn't say anything. "I can't even imagine what that must have been like."

Still Deston was motionless. His eyes moved under closed lids and she could do nothing but watch him helplessly. A physical wound she could have tended but how did one reach into the soul and heal the scars sliced there? It was the worst thing, Ema decided, having to sit right next to a loved one and feel so far apart, so helpless. She would have given anything to be able to take away the broken expression in Deston's eyes, the hollowness of his voice.

"It was the letter."

Ema blinked amidst the frown that gathered between her eyes. "The letter?"

"I thought I understood her, Ema," he said softly. "When she told me she didn't want to be with me, I was a little confused but even then I allowed her her space because I thought she would be back." Deston rubbed the bridge of his nose, his fingers harshly digging into the skin there. "But that letter… that damned letter…"

He stood up suddenly, his body shivering uncontrollably and Ema patiently waited as he paced. There was an urgency in his movements that told her something was fighting to escape him, had perhaps been fighting a long, hard battle and was finally rising to the surface.

"It showed me how little I knew her," he said, his voice growing gravelly. "Like someone had finally lifted a mask and I was seeing things so much clearer than I ever had before except they were… out of my reach. How could I have loved her so deeply and failed to see who she really was?"

Ema felt her stomach flip when she realised what Deston was trying to say. She was at his shoulder instantly, her hand on his arm. "Deston," she said, her voice low and urgent. "Don't think like that. It doesn't mean you didn't know her."

"Doesn't it?" he said hoarsely.

"No, it _doesn't_." Ema held his gaze. "No matter how much we know somebody loves us and no matter how many times somebody tells us they will die for us, it doesn't mean we'll ever be ready for the sacrifice."

He simply continued watching her with his intent eyes and suddenly, the one thing she had always found so difficult to talk about, suddenly became the easiest.

"Lana told you about Gant, didn't she?" Ema paused and took a deep breath. "When you first mentioned it, I ignored you because I didn't want to talk about it. It was a rough time for loads of reasons but the worst thing was the fact that, even though I was aware of how much Lana loved me, how she'd brought me up like a parent, I never considered that everything she did for me might have something to do with saving me. Despite being certain she hadn't murdered anyone, I never thought _I_ could be the missing link in the mystery. It just never occurred to me and I felt guilty for a long time after that. I felt horrible for not realising how much she loved me."

"That wasn't your fault, Ema," Deston said softly.

"_Exactly_," she answered firmly. "Although it took me forever to realise it, it wasn't my fault she decided to do things the way she did. It was her choice to love me the way she does. I never imagined the lengths she would go to because it's not in me to expect that much _of _her. It doesn't mean I don't know my sister or that I'm insulting her by not expecting it of her. It just means I wouldn't want _anyone _to go that far for me."

She saw the comprehension rise in his eyes and Ema's sadness grew at the way he turned away then but she wasn't going to be deterred. Her hand went to his shoulder and she pulled at it lightly.

"Just because you didn't expect her to die for you doesn't mean you didn't know her, Des," she went on gently. "Don't feed your grief like this. It will destroy everything in you that she died to protect."

He jerked under her touch at the words but Ema held on, knowing to let him go would be letting him sink into himself again and she wasn't going to let that happen.

"Whatever she was to you then doesn't mean she still isn't now. It's in your power to keep her memory alive the way you saw her. It doesn't matter what she did or how she tried to save you. All that's important is what she was to you and what you were together."

Deston looked at her then, his eyes settling on her face, inscrutable and heavy. They searched her face questioningly, as if he was trying to ascertain whether or not she believed in what she was saying and Ema stared back unflinchingly, meeting his gaze head on. She felt herself stripped bare beneath his scrutiny yet, for once in her life, she was entirely comfortable. It wasn't just that she had nothing to hide, that she was telling the truth and it wasn't because she was in the company of a friend. No — the comfort was in who he was. It was because she knew Deston would see the truth exactly as it was, without being marred by his own assumptions and opinions, without prejudice and expectation. He would look into her face and see what she was thinking, what she was feeling and he would understand.

As if in confirmation of her belief, Deston's face broke into a tender smile and she was suddenly engulfed; his arms bundled her into his embrace and he buried his face into her hair. Ema's mouth was hit by a trembling smile even as her hands made their way around his neck and she laughed gently at his response, both relieved and touched.

"You're a blessing, Em," he said quietly, pulling back to look into her face. "I don't know how we managed without you all these years."

Ema's eyebrows shot up at that. "Yeah, you're right," she said with a hint of sarcasm to her tone. "You were all positively in ruins until I came along."

"You know what I mean," he said.

"No," she said slowly. "I don't."

Ema's scepticism stayed firmly in place and Deston sighed exasperatedly. "You really have no idea of your own worth, do you?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you," Ema said somewhat waspishly. "This isn't about me."

"I know," he said but the increasing cheekiness of his smile made her wary. "This is about me."

"Yes it is," she agreed swiftly. "Now come downstairs. You haven't eaten anything today. We—"

"Ema," he interrupted. "You really need to learn to listen."

"I'm not the one interrupting someone in the middle of a sentence," she pointed out archly.

"Thanks, Em," Deston said affectionately, taking her by surprise. "You've been a comfort to me."

Ema, still taken aback, shook her head. "I haven't done anything."

He laughed. "You've done more than you know, babe," he said but before she could quiz him on that remark, he threw an arm around her shoulders and spun her around. "Now didn't you say something about food? I do need some breakfast."

She was perturbed by his behaviour and not knowing whether this was another facade, Ema stopped him with a hand on the arm. "Deston," she said unobtrusively, looking up into his face. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She saw his features flicker. "Yeah, why do you ask?"

There was no helping the way her eyes narrowed dubiously as if to say she didn't believe a word he said and Deston, who she had expected to laugh off her concern, shook his head.

"I'm fine, babe," he said calmly, looking her in the eye. "I had my moment of madness. It's over. Besides," he added, his features turning momentarily grim, "I have a job to do. I can't find justice for Raina if I can't function right."

"I'll help you."

For the first time, Deston looked surprised. "Help me?" he echoed.

"Yes," she said firmly. "I'm going to help you find the people who did this to her. And don't bother telling me no," Ema interrupted when he opened his mouth. "I won't listen. Just accept the fact and let's be done with it."

For a moment, it looked as though he might object; his brow was furrowed and his mouth pursed as he stared at her but then, unexpectedly, his features cleared up. The frown smoothed out and he smiled, the first real smile he'd raised in days, and Ema felt the last trickle of dread in her stomach dry up and disappear.

"Detective Skye," he said, holding an arm out to her, "I would be honoured to accept your help."

Ema grinned and slipped her arm through his, her insides thrilling with relief and happiness at seeing the old Deston beginning to return.

"But first, Agent Cavatin," she countered, composing her expression into a more business-like one, "we need to get us some breakfast!"

.'.

"You've _never_ had olives?" Seren asked incredulously eyeing Ema.

Ema, who was perching on the edge of her tool, rolled her eyes. "On pizzas and salads. Never on their own."

Deston glanced at her sideways, his mouth stuffed with toast and eggs. His ravenous eating, while somewhat gross to her, was a relief — a returned appetite was a good sign. "Try one, Em," he said in between mouthfuls.

Ema threw him an irate look. "Don't eat with your mouth full."

He stopped chewing and looked at her in surprise. "What did you say?"

Ema blinked at him, not understanding why he looked so taken aback by such a simple remark but then Seren jumped in to ease her confusion; "She said don't eat with your mouth full," he chuckled.

Deston laughed with him and Ema flushed, realising her error. "Shut up!" she snapped. "You know what I meant!"

"We're teasing, Em," Seren said soothingly.

"Yeah," Deston agreed with a suspiciously complacent look. "I know what you really meant was I should _eat_ with mouth only _half_ full."

They started laughing again and Ema glared at them for a few seconds, torn by the variety of weapons she could use to hurt them but, just then, she caught Seren's eye. He was smiling at her gratefully and he didn't need to explain why — she resisted the urge to nod at him in a silent acceptance of his thanks because Deston was staring at her again.

"What now?" Ema said waspishly seeing the look on his face.

"Will you feed me?" he asked in a voice so innocent that her eyes narrowed.

"Why can't you feed yourself?" she asked suspiciously.

"I might put too much in my mouth," he replied.

Ema rolled her eyes at the cheeky look on his face. "Getting old, canary-face."

"Ema," Seren said, grabbing her attention; he was holding the jar of olives up to her. "Try one."

Without a word, Ema dipped two fingers into the liquid and picked one out. She eyed it critically, squeezing it and glancing down the centre like a child scrutinising a piece of suspicious vegetable. Seren, who was watching her, laughed.

"They're plain," he reassured her.

"There are others in the refrigerator, Em," Deston told her, pointing towards the appliance over his shoulder. "Some—"

"Let me try this one first," Ema cut him off , waving the olive in her hand threateningly. Deston eyed the motion with amusement and gestured apologetically.

"Go for it, babe."

Trying to ignore the two fops watching her, she drew the olive to her mouth and took a small bite. In that moment when her teeth descended into the plush, green skin, Ema realised two things: (a) she was an idiot for not telling the guys to stop watching her and (b) she was going to be the object of their teasing — again. Because just as she bit into it, the hollow of the olive rebelled against the pressure, squirting out some juice that had somehow managed to stay in place.

There was a moment of silence as the liquid trickled down her chin and onto her leg. Ema closed her eyes in protest of the situation, knowing she was absolutely doomed. Seren might have let it pass but Deston never would; his foppishness had returned with vengeance.

She was wrong.

Approximately five seconds later, she heard them _both_. It started off in a mingle of titters when she wiped at her mouth, that slowly crescendoed into gales of hearty laughter. Ema scowled at them, glaring at their shaking forms; Seren was leaning against the unit, his head dropping between his shoulders, and Deston had thrown his head back, his fist punching the surface as if he couldn't quite bear the hilarity of the situation.

"Oh get over it," Ema said loudly (and quite redundantly because they only laughed harder).

"Now that's what you call not eating with your mouth full!" Seren exclaimed.

"No," Deston disagreed, "it's called dribbling juice down your— hey, now, calm dow—"

But Ema had already picked up the jar of olives and thrown it at Deston, supremely confident in his reflexes. He didn't disappoint; it went flying over his ducking form right at—

"Watch out!" Seren shouted.

"_Mother of—!"_

Raoul barely managed to move out of the way in time, disappearing behind the frame lightning-fast, and the container flew through the doorway, smashing spectacularly on the marble flooring just beyond the threshold. Ema, who had clasped her mouth the moment she saw the Italian almost become the unintended victim of her attack, was oblivious to the fresh howls of laughter coming from Seren and Deston.

"_Are you okay_?" she shrieked out in between stiff fingers.

Raoul popped his head around the door, his expression pulled into a wary scowl, and when he was certain there were no more missiles headed his way, the rest of him followed. Stepping into the kitchen, he raked a hand through his messy hair as he glanced back at the shattered glass and scattered olives.

"What the hell kinda greeting's that?" he demanded, turning to Ema who met his gaze with her own horrified one.

"I'm sorry!"

Raoul raised an eyebrow. "You wanna try movin' your hands off your mouth?"

Ema complied almost instantly, pointing at the mess behind him. "I'm sorry! I-didn't-mean-to-throw-it-at-you-it-was-meant-for-him!"

Her finger turned to Deston, who was now holding on to the table to keep himself from falling off his stool because he was laughing so hard. Beside him, Seren was trying to stand still, his hand tightly rubbing his mouth in a highly suspicious manner.

"What's got them in a fit?" Raoul asked.

The question seemed to break Seren's control because he let out an uncharacteristic hoot and joined Deston's laughing binge. Ema's horror quickly melted into flushed anger when she remembered their reason for such vocal amusement.

"Shut _UP_!" she shouted. "It's. Not. _Funny_! He could have got hurt!"

Raoul's expression quirked and his mouth twitched foppishly. "I didn't know you cared."

"You need to shut up too!" Ema snapped, her momentary remorse going up in smoke. "I just don't want to be responsible for your death!"

"Aren't you sweet."

Ema ignored him, her attention already having turned to the other two who, much to their disgrace, were still laughing. Unable to help herself, and so utterly frustrated was she, that Ema reached across to grab a handful of eggs in one hand and threw it into Deston's face ("_Shut—_") while with the other, she picked up a slice of toast and flung it at Seren ("—_UP_!").

"Girl's got a point," Raoul called out in an annoyed voice. "Get a grip on yourselves."

Seren had sobered up and he flashed a grin at Raoul who, still standing behind Deston, glanced at the still-laughing drummer and cocked his head as if to say 'what's got into him?' Seren, in turn, nodded towards Ema (who had seen the exchange and immediately understood Raoul's surprise). The Italian looked to her and, for the first time, saw something akin to a genuine smile form on his lips. There was no smirk, no mockery or teasing in the gesture — it was one of pure appreciation.

"Quit with the hyena act, wonder-boy," Raoul instructed, turning to Deston although the drummer had already calmed down and was now wiping the eggs off his lap. "We have work to do."

"You know what they say about all work and no play," was Deston's reply as he winked at Ema.

She scowled.

"Is Klavier back yet?" Seren asked, looking at Raoul who shrugged.

"I just woke up, man. If anyone should know, it's you."

"Ema said he went to see Daryan." Deston asked, turning around to face the boys. "Everything cool?"

With a jolt, Ema remembered Deston had no idea of the decision Klavier had come to the day before.

"He's gone to see what he can do about Daryan's situation," Seren answered.

Deston's eyebrows shot up and he looked to Raoul and Ema as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"Yeah," Raoul confirmed. "It's true."

Deston let out a deep breath and shook his head, a smile forming on his face. "I knew he'd come around."

"Makes you want to strangle Daryan, doesn't it?" Seren said with a smile.

"Pretty much," Deston agreed.

"Why?" Ema asked, confused.

"Daryan hid Tessa from us before his trial," Raoul explained with the hint of a glower. "And when we found out, he wouldn't let us tell Klavier."

"Why was he okay with you guys knowing but not Klavier?" Ema asked, annoyed.

"Remember that I only found out about her because I did some investigating," Deston reminded her. "And I told these two."

"But he still wouldn't let you tell Klavier."

"That's right."

Ema's frown deepened. _"Why?"_

"Because he didn't think Klavier would tolerate it," Seren explained.

"But he did," Ema argued. "He didn't lose his temper."

"Because he has you," Deston said.

"What do I have to do with anything?"

"Klavier can empathise with Daryan now because of the way he feels about you, Ema," Raoul answered, drawing a stool out next to Deston and sitting on it.

"Before you, K might have had a hard time understanding Daryan's motivation," Seren expounded.

Ema flushed for the second time that day but ploughed on, unwilling to let the turn of the conversation throw her. "I think you're wrong," she told them. "Regardless of his own romantic situation, I think Klavier would have surprised you all. You shouldn't underestimate him."

They didn't respond to her reprimand but she could tell they weren't convinced. All of them looked away; Seren picked up the toast that had fallen to the floor earlier and Deston appeared to follow suit because he started wiping at his shirt where some of the egg was still sticking. Raoul glanced away and ran a hand through his hair tiredly.

"Hey," he said, nodding at Deston. "We should go see Daryan too."

"I don't even need to ask, do I?" Deston replied, rolling his eyes. "You guys told him I turned into a nutcase."

"That wasn't our precise wording," Seren said.

"No," Raoul agreed with a smirk. "It was more 'Cavatin flipped a lid and lost his marbles.'"

"Thanks, boys," Deston said dryly. "I'm touched by your concern."

"What do you think Klavier will try to do for Daryan?" Ema asked.

"He's going to try and see if Criminal Affairs will negotiate on a waiver of Daryan's sentence," Seren answered.

"But he committed murder," Ema said with a frown. "How will they allow him out?"

"It wouldn't be for nothing," Raoul cut in. "Daryan was the best detective CA had. If Klavier can put a strong enough case forward, explain Daryan's motivation, they might consider the offer."

"What Ray means," Seren added, seeing her baffled expression, "is that they would have certain terms Daryan would be required to meet. He might have to undergo severe counselling and work for the department wherever they assign him."

"I didn't know you could do that," Ema said.

"Usually the waivers are for hackers, frauds, people whose skills the department can use," Deston said.

"But his credibility is such," Seren continued, "that if Klavier is able to convince the powers that be Daryan only did what he did for Tess—"

"—and that he's not a danger to anyone else—" Deston chipped in.

"—they might consider converting his sentence," Seren finished.

Ema digested this information; her thoughts went to Tessa who had battled with a terminal illness without her partner by her side. She didn't know how Tess had done it; _she_ couldn't imagine having to deal with the knowledge she was going to die without Klavier to at least hold her hand.

"So Tess will be able to live normally with Daryan?" she asked hopefully.

The Gavinners glanced at each other and when Raoul answered, he looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, that's right."

Ema instantly noticed the hesitancy in his voice. "But?"

"The chances of success are slim, Em," Deston said quietly. "Homicide is bad enough on its own but for the victim to be an Interpol agent…"

Her heart sank when his meaning registered. "That makes it harder." Deston nodded gravely. "But then what?" she said, looking around at them. "What will Klavier do?"

"My guess is he'll appeal to the system on behalf of Daryan. Try and have his sentence reduced."

"From what?" Ema asked, almost dreading the answer. Again the Gavinners looked at each other and this time, the discomfort in their faces was blatant. They turned to her silently and Ema's eyes widened in realisation at the gravity of their expression. "The death penalty?" she whispered.

"Even if K's unsuccessful, there's still the Jurist System," Deston said comfortingly. "If Phoenix succeeds, the death penalty will be abolished."

"And if he doesn't?" she said faintly, her wide eyes fixed on his face.

Raoul and Seren shifted simultaneously but Deston's expression was firm. "Ema," he said with an indulgent smile and suddenly, as she stared back into his confident eyes, she felt her worry subside. "When has Phoenix ever failed?"

.'.

It was three phone calls later they were able to discover that Klavier was still with Daryan and an hour later that they pulled up outside the state penitentiary (with Raoul claiming Ema had taken forever to get ready and Ema blaming it on the humongous head they had difficulty getting into the car). The guards watched bemusedly, clearly taken aback by the familiarity of Ema's banter with the Gavinners; they had seen her accompany Deston on a few occasions (and of course they knew of her 'relationship' with the drummer) but the full-on fop-rain she poured on them was surprising. They stared at her for several moments as the group passed and then resumes their blank, meant-to-be intimidating stances. It was her business how many rock-stars she verbally abused.

"I feel so self-conscious without my lab coat," Ema complained, tugging at her jacket as they walked through the gates to the deserted courtyard.

Seren looked at curiously. "Why?"

"I feel exposed," she answered vaguely.

"Exposed?" Deston echoed, amused.

"Meaning we can see the shape of her ass," Raoul interpreted bluntly, eliciting a gasp from Ema which he ignored. "I seen exposed and you ain't exposed."

"YOU PERVERTED LITTLE—"

"Ema," Seren interrupted, putting a hand on her arm.

Before she could snap at him for stopping her tirade, Seren had reached around her and swung at Raoul, catching him round the back of his head. Raoul half-formed swear was cut off when Ema reached up and flicked at his nose; the Italian jerked back in surprise.

"That's for your potty mouth," Ema said with a glare.

In response, Raoul spun around her and thumped Seren who laughed. "That," he snapped, "is for rubbing off on her."

"I don't need Seren to tell me you have a foul mouth on you." Ema turned away in a huff.

"Aded," Raoul said in a threatening voice. "One of these days, I'm going to—"

"Swear at me?" Seren laughed. "Come off it, mate. You heard her. I haven't done anything."

Exasperated, she turned to Deston in the hopes he would help her to shut the Italian up but was confronted by emptiness. With a frown, she looked around but found nothing except an empty courtyard and a gate that was occupied by the guards they'd just passed.

"Hey," Ema interrupted the Gavinners, looking around. "Where's Deston gone?"

They stopped bickering and followed her cue. She glanced at them, their serious eyes sweeping their surroundings, and her frown deepened when Raoul scowled again, his eyes rolling in annoyance.

"I hate it when he does that."

Ema was surprised. "He's never done this with me."

"He wouldn't unless there was someone else around to keep you company — which we are," Seren said before he turned to Raoul. "Do you think he went back to his car?"

Ema saw the sprinkle of apprehension in the annoyance filling the Italian's gaze. "Probably. Or he could have just gone on ahead."

"Shouldn't we go back to check just in case?" Ema said, growing worried.

"He'll be all right, Ema," Raoul reassured her. "Dude's a big boy."

"He's not exactly in the best shape," she pointed out.

"No," Seren agreed. "But he's doing a lot better thanks to you. I'm sure he's fine."

"Going after him like he's a kid ain't gonna make him happy," Raoul added, seeing the look on her face. "He needs some space."

"But if it makes you feel better," Seren said pacifyingly when he saw her expression, "we'll wait a few minutes to see if he comes along. If not, it's probably because he's gone on ahead."

Ema looked between the two, uncertain of how honest they were being with her about their own worries but found nothing besides patience. She knew Seren would downplay his concern for her sake. Raoul, on the other hand, had proven he could be frank with her the day they'd decided to go find Deston — he'd trusted in her strength even when the boys were trying to leave her behind. He'd stuck by her side, and the fact that the Italian was watching her calmly, his eyebrow arched and a smirk beginning to creep on his suspicious lips made her feel better about Deston's sudden disappearance.

"I wonder if you'd worry about me this much if _I_ went missing."

A memory of Sloan attacking Raoul crossed through her mind and judging by the look on Seren's face when she glanced at him, he was thinking the same. Nevertheless, she waved a hand carelessly and looked away. "I only _wish_ you would disappear," she said glibly.

"What about me?" Seren asked with a smile.

"Not after what you did to me today," Ema retorted, turning a glare on the keyboardist.

Seren looked startled. "What did I do?"

"You offered me the olive of _doom_."

The boys blinked as if they were taking a second to process the meaning of her words. Ema watched them expectantly, waiting for their reaction, and when it came she bit back the smile fighting its way to her lips; they both burst into laughter, Seren's slightly (and uncharacteristically) louder than Raoul's.

"The olive of doom!" Seren exclaimed in between bouts of laughter. "You sure have a way with words, Ema."

"Kind of perfect," Ema replied and when he looked at her quizzically, she pointed at the green of his rumpled clothes. "Celery stick."

Seren pretended to be affronted and the expression was so odd on him that Ema's eyes narrowed in distrust. "Oi! It wasn't _my_ fault the juice trickled down your chin!"

Raoul fell right into character at that one, his wild laughter echoing around the courtyard while Ema glared at him angrily. "I'd have paid good money to see that," he said wistfully.

"Man, it was _priceless_," Seren chortled. "After the lecture she gave Des about the way he was eating…"

"Alright!" Ema cut across him loudly, a pout on her face as she stepped around them and headed towards the prison entrance. "That's quite enough out of you. I'm going inside; Deston would never leave me alone with you fops for this long."

"I don't think we've nearly had enough, love," Seren disagreed, he and Raoul falling into step behind her.

"I thought you were the nice one!" Ema said, her eyes accusing.

"I _am_ the nice one," he confirmed with a smile. "If I wasn't nice, you'd hear something else coming from my mouth."

Ema's response was cut off by the fingers that suddenly crept around her forearm, startling her. She looked back to see Raoul standing there and was even more surprised by the look on his face: the hilarity that had been evident there only moments ago was replaced by a grim wariness. Seren was also staring at Raoul, clearly as puzzled as she was, but then the Brit's eyes followed his gaze and Ema followed suit, wondering what it was that had caught the red-head's attention. She didn't see anything at first. The courtyard seemed as empty as it had been before but then, just as she was about to enquire as to Raoul's sudden change in demeanour, she found the object of his displeasure.

The man was normally dressed, his walk casual and his expression genial. He was a good-looking man, his face handsomely sculpted and his features soft, made all the softer by the golden mane around his head. There was nothing threatening about him.

However, despite the ordinariness of this man's presence, Ema instantly understood her friend's reaction. Even despite his geniality of his appearance, the man looked chillingly familiar — she couldn't tell if it was the structure of his face or something in his expression but he reminded her of someone she had seen hang a mere week ago.

And yet, it wasn't that which made her stomach knot up, her skin feel like something had sunk its claws in her… It was the way he was staring straight at her as he approached them, his large eyes boring holes into her face and there was something about the way he walked… his every step filled her with unnatural dread.

"Do you have your gun?" she heard Seren mutter.

Beside her, Raoul's answer came stiff and quiet. "Yeah."

_My gun… Where's my gun?_

It didn't matter though. She could feel both of them shift, both their arms simultaneously move to the guns lodged discreetly in their waistbands as the man moved closer. They were still except for the heightening tension in the air and when he was less than a few feet away, he stopped. Blue eyes flickered back and forth between them, the expression in them simply amused, but it was enough: Raoul and Seren both drew her behind them, moving forward to shield her with their bodies.

"Afternoon, boys," he said, looking between them both with a smile. "How are you doing?"

"Do we know you?" Seren asked bluntly.

"No," came the reply, still amiable. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of being formally introduced, Mr Aded."

"Then by all means, don't let us keep you."

"Nothing could keep me except sheer interest," he said and, quite unexpectedly, turned his attention to her, his eyes seeking her out sharply. His gaze swept up and down her frame leisurely. "Although I've wanted to meet _you_ for a while now, Ema. I must say, though…" he added, cocking his head to the side as he considered her, "considering what I heard Irina did to you, you're looking pretty good."

A thrill of dread hit through her at those words, made all the more intense by Raoul and Seren's reaction; their features grew dark and both of them had their weapons out instantly, the barrels trained on him with acute precision.

He eyed their guns with a smile. "Come now," he said, his tone diplomatic. "You don't even know my name, yet."

"I know what you are," Seren answered, his voice hard, "and I know what you've done. The only thing I'm lacking is a reason not to put a bullet hole in your face."

Another tilt of the head. Another smile. And once again, his eyes turned to Ema with deceptive friendliness. "My name is Leonardo Rainsford," he said despite Seren's rebuff. One arm extended towards the building behind him. "I was here for my dad."

Ema was speechless. The nonchalance of his announcement was so alien to her, so at odds with the rigidity of the situation, that she didn't know what to do except continue staring at him. The pleasantness of his expression was stark against the dark flicks in his eyes that were still fixed on her face.

"I'm glad I ran into you, Ema," he continued. His hand lifted and for the first time, she noticed that he was holding a slightly bulky envelope. He held it out for her but both Gavinners only moved tighter until Leonardo was almost eclipsed by their combined forms.

"You don't talk to her," Raoul snarled, lifting his gun threateningly.

Leonardo glanced down at the gun again and Ema shivered at the contempt that suddenly twisted his features. "You've just executed my father," he said in a low voice, his narrowed eyes fixing on Raoul with frightening intensity. "I'd say you're in enough trouble as it is without pointing a gun at me, Italian."

Raoul sneered. "Can ya see me quakin' in my boots?"

The young Rainsford tilted his head to the side and examined Raoul's face, his black expression melting into interest. Raoul met his stare head on, the shadow over his green eyes darkening with each second that passed.

"Shocking crassness in the face of such eloquence," he said. "Your father would not be impressed, Mr Adagio."

It was said with the same provocative amusement that Rafael had used but Raoul's response was different this time — he remained silent and unmoving and for some reason, seeing him like that spurred Ema to speak up.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"Ema, stay behind me," Raoul instructed her firmly, holding an arm out as if to keep her back.

"He's not going to attack me here," she said and was surprised by how confident she sounded in spite of her knotted stomach.

"No," Seren intoned, pushing Ema back again. "He can't be trusted."

"She's right," Leonardo interrupted. "I'm not here for her."

Seren's aim didn't waver. "Then what the hell are you here for?"

"I told you," he said calmly. "I was here for my dad."

Ema felt the cold inside grow; even though Leonardo Rainsford sounded composed, there was something in the way he said that that rang of a threat. She had known there would be retribution to the way they'd got rid of Rafael but now that one of his family was here, standing right before them with deafening calm, she was more frightened of the reaction than she could have imagined. Who were these people? What planned madness allowed Leonardo to look them in the eye… and smile at them?

"I know Herr Gavin is inside — no, don't worry, Ema—" Leonardo said reassuringly when he saw her expression. "He's safe. He didn't even know I was there. I was hoping to find Mr Cavatin."

"Well, I'm here now."

If it hadn't been for the hold Raoul still had on her, she would have probably fallen over; her whole body jerked around to look at her friend; Deston's expression was cool save for the slight raise of the brow that gave him an arched look. Unlike the other two, his arms were crossed and there was no gun in sight.

"How can I help you?"

Leonardo shifted and Raoul stiffened, his hold on Ema tightening again. When the young Rainsford took a step to the side, Seren's gun cocked. Leonardo raised an eyebrow at him before looking at Deston with enjoyment.

"How dramatic. Did you all ever consider a career in acting?"

None of them answered and the only reaction Ema saw was in Deston's face — he smirked, his shoulder rising in a semi-shrug. Leonardo resumed his walk around the fortress Raoul and Seren had created and the Italian turned, moving Ema behind him with each step the other took, his body shielding her. Leonardo smiled.

"I'm not going to hurt her," he repeated. "Put your gun away, Mr Adagio. Relax."

"What makes you think I ain't relaxed?" Raoul said with whimsical amusement. "Free therapy right here."

"It's not every day we get to point our guns at an arsehole," Seren agreed. "Especially one who deserves it."

Ema resisted the urge to look away when Leonardo's eyes moved to her again, travelling down her frame as if he was considering her value. She didn't want to show any fear but the sight of his perusal made her skin crawl and it was that, more than anything else, that made her do what she did next: her fingers dug into Raoul's arm and she buried her face into his back as her stomach churned in disgust.

She felt worthless, like a piece of meat being considered for purchase.

She never expected her behaviour to affect Raoul the way it did: if possible, he stiffened even more, and she almost felt the growl that vibrated in his chest. Ema knew the reason for it straightaway, knew that her obvious fear had angered him, and she clenched him tighter, afraid he would do something stupid.

"Please don't," she whispered, her voice so inaudible that it was only the following silence which reassured her he'd heard the plea.

"Obviously you won't believe me unless I tell you why you don't need to worry," Leonardo said, "and seeing as you're distracted at a time I need your attention, I'll tell you. I have _no_ interest in Ema. That's my sister — and she wants Miss Skye all to herself."

Raoul snarled again, his muscles contracting under her touch while Seren's voice retaliated, anger evident for the first time. "You can tell your _bitch_ of a sister that's not happening."

Ema's eyes popped open in surprise at the profanity and she peered around Raoul in time to see Leonardo glance sideways at Seren.

"For someone who's just lost her father, you show an alarming lack of respect for my sister, Mr Aded," he said quietly. "I would be careful what you say."

"My condolences, you son of a bitch," Raoul snarled, "but unless you start talkin' I'm gonna give your sister another body to mourn."

"Though I risk offending you boys, I have to say I'm getting tired of all your threats," he replied with a long-suffering sigh. "What valid reason do you have to shoot me? And we all know you can't take me in otherwise you'd have done it already. You have no proof."

Deston exhaled heavily — so heavily in fact, that it almost sounded exaggerated. And, if Raoul's body language was anything to go by, he had noticed the oddness of the sound too. "I suppose you're right," he said in a mock-defeated tone. "We have no choice but listen to what you have to say."

If Leonardo heard the ridicule in Deston's voice, he didn't show it. He threw the package he'd been holding at Deston, smiling appreciatively when the other caught it. "It's a gift from Irina," he explained. "Two gifts actually. She wants you to enjoy them as much as possible."

Ema's heart plummeted, her eyes fixed on the bundle now in Deston's hand. She didn't need to focus on the seeming irony in Leonardo's voice to know there could be nothing good in that envelope. Her friend's fingers were steady as they pulled at paper but still she willed him not to open it; he'd just pulled himself together…

_Please don't open it here, Deston… Don't let the bastard see it get to you…_

Her dread increased when he upended the package and a disk fell from it, housed in a slim case but when there was a click and something else dropped into his palm, glinting in the sunlight, Ema almost stopped breathing. The very air seemed to stand still around them as he took the ring in his fingers and turned it over expressionlessly. She didn't know how it had come into their possession but somehow she knew what it was and who it had belonged to; Ema looked at Seren and the trepidation in his eyes only confirmed her fear.

_How did Leonardo get hold of that?_

Deston was turning the ring over and over endlessly now, his gaze locked on it disquietly. Ema felt the shivers on her spine cease, felt the fear give way under anger.

Wasn't it enough they had killed Raina? _How dare they play games?_

She let go of Raoul and even as she took a step toward Deston, Raoul grabbed her and pulled her behind him again without a word. Before she could push him away, however, Leonardo moved — and everyone froze. He was watching Deston, who was still circling the ring, but didn't say anything, showed no fear as he walked right past the Gavinner.

Ema's anger bubbled again, rising in her throat like acid and she was ready to scream at the scum, to tell him what she thought of him as he walked away, so callous and uncaring of the pain he was leaving behind but then—

"Hey, Leonardo," Deston called out suddenly, his voice so steady that she didn't know what to make of it. He was still looking down, visually tracing his finger as it ran gingerly over the stones set in the band.

Rainsford turned around and looked at him, his questioning gaze boring into Deston's back. They watched as his hand closed around Raina's ring and he turned to meet Leonardo's eyes, his own lighting up with an unexpected smile.

"Tell your sister I said thanks," he said, waving the CD.

Leonardo's expression melted into a reflection of Deston's and he cocked his head to the side, surveying him as if he were impressed. "I will, Deston." He paused, as if a thought had occurred to him. "And when you release Sloan, we'll be there to claim him."

Raoul's reaction was instant: "You _are_ Rafael's son, ain't ya?" he snorted. "Aren't you supposed to be intelligent?"

"Klavier will put your man away for so long, he won't see the light of day," Seren confirmed.

"There's no need for that," Leonardo said quietly and though the boys didn't seem to notice it, there was something in his expression that didn't sit well with Ema.

"I think Rainsford's death has addled his brain," Raoul sneered.

"You're assuming he had one in the first place, Ray," Seren chuckled.

However, the guitarist's silence in the conversation was almost deafening to Ema who couldn't help but notice the way he was observing Leonardo, as if he was using his friend's distracting taunts to read the man. His entire stance was relaxed but she recognised the arch of his back — Deston was ready for a fight.

"Just drop him off where you arrested him, boys," Leonardo continued in his smooth voice, condescendingly ignoring Seren and Raoul. "We'll do the rest."

"Will you be alive when we're done with him?" Seren asked conversationally. "Don't get me wrong, it's just that after my friend is done prosecuting him, the only one with the authority to release him will be the good ol' grim reaper."

Leonardo smirked and another sickening blow hit Ema in the chest when she saw the resemblance to Rafael; there it was, that taunting, evil provocation thinly veiled behind the curtain of a smile…

"You'll find you can't prosecute him now, Seren," he said, hands slipping into the confines of his crossed arms. "And while I'm feeling nice, I should probably give you a warning."

"I'm aquiver with anticipation."

"You don't want Irina to become interested in Maralie the way she has with Ema." He shrugged. "There's no need for her to suffer too."

Ema felt her heart skip a beat and she looked at Seren but his expression was blank. "She won't."

"One last thing," Leonardo added, his suddenly cold eyes sweeping all of them deliberately. "We're pleased Uncle David's still alive. Tell him Irina and I look forward to meeting him."

Rafael's son didn't wait for a reply this time: he spun on his heel, his eyes lingering on Deston for a moment as he turned, and then he was walking away.

Ema watched him go, her skin crawling despite the distance each step brought between them. Her fingers were still loosely hanging off Raoul's arm and even now she was half shielded by his body, and it was only when Seren was suddenly by her side, his voice in her ear, that she looked away from Leornado's retreating figure.

"Ema," he said in a low voice. "Are you okay?"

"She's fine," Raoul answered for her, his jaw hard when he looked down at her. "Quit coddling her, Aded. She's a tough girl."

It was odd, however, that even as he said that, his hands were rubbing her arms, but Ema wasn't paying enough attention to comment on that fact. Her focus had shifted to Deston whose gaze never wavered from Leonardo until the man had gone through the gates and disappeared. He looked at them now, his face a mask of serious contemplation with none of the anguish that she — and the boys if their silence was anything to go by — had expected. His hands immediately stowed away the ring and disc in his jacket even as he pierced Ema with his silver gaze.

"You all right, babe?"

"I'm fine. What—?"

"Let's get inside," he said and the urgency in his tone was evident now.

"I'm gonna go check on Sloan," Raoul cut in abruptly.

The drummer considered him for a split second before nodding in agreement and the Italian took off straight away, his long legs carrying him across the grounds at a startling speed. She didn't get to watch where he went however because she was distracted by the other two when they started talking again.

"Seren—"

"I know," Seren nodded at his bandmate. "I'll take Ray's car."

"I want a thorough search of his body," Deston instructed. "The cell he was in, the guards that watched over him after the PRA sanction Klavier set and the execution chamber — all of it!"

Seren touched Ema's arm and then he was off too, running in the other direction. His green-wrapped frame was sprinting through the gates when Deston put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him, his mouth dropping to her forehead in a startling but soothing kiss.

"Come on, Em," he said in a warm voice. "Let's go see where Klavier's got to. I bet Daryan's havi—"

"Where have they gone?" Ema interrupted, uninterested in the change of subject. "What's wrong?"

Deston took a moment to answer and when he did it was with a heavy sigh. "First, can you answer me one question?"

Ema nodded straightaway, her impatience at needing answers drowning out any wariness that might have arisen at the request. "What is it?"

"Are you scared?"

That surprised her: the eyebrows that had been hunched together in a frown now rose with surprise and she pulled back to look up into his face. "Why would I be…? Oh." She paused, her confusion ebbing when she understood why his silver eyes were so serious, why he was holding her so comfortingly.

Her first response was to deny it, to tell him that of _course _she wasn't scared (even if she was) but something stopped her. She remembered the honesty he always exercised with her, that it was because of her honesty she'd been able to look him in the eye and tell him he was not to blame for anything that happened to Raina. Ema trusted him and she wanted to give him the same courtesy, wanted him to always know she could be trusted to offer the truth and nothing else.

So she stopped and thought about her answer. Her eyes flickered towards where Seren had gone and back to where Raoul had raced off to before turning back to Deston; he was still staring at her as if he was trying to read her and she stared right back at him with a smile, pleased with the answer that fell from her lips:

"No," she said softly. "As long as you're all here, I'm not scared."

She expected him to be sceptical and stare at her for a while longer to ascertain whether or not she was being honest but his mouth stretched into a warm smile and he squeezed her shoulders. "Come on," he said, guiding her towards the entrance once more. "Let's go in."

"Are you going to tell me where Ray and Seren went?" Ema asked.

"You heard the way Leonardo was talking about Sloan," Deston explained. "He's gone to make sure he didn't do anything to him."

"That was him, wasn't it?" Ema said, perturbed. "The Leo we heard on those tapes we found in Meraktis' office."

"Probably," Deston said, nodding. "He acts just as self-satisfied as that bastard did."

Ema paused, hesitant to ask the question that had been lingering at the back of her mind for a while and she looked sideways at Deston, her eyes falling to the open front of his jacket. The Gavinner, having seen her line of sight, squeezed her shoulders again.

"Don't worry, Ema," he said steadily. "I'm fine."

"Why did—" She stopped, her lips compressing when she realised the inappropriateness of her question for the moment. Deston who was looking at her questioningly and she hesitated, not knowing if she should continue or not.

'_Why did they have Raina's ring?' _

_Seriously? That can't wait?_

"Why did he randomly threaten Maralie?" she said instead.

If Deston knew she'd changed her mind, he didn't show it. "Looks like Seren pissed him off," he guessed. "I imagine that was his reason."

"Where did Seren go?"

Deston was silent as he pulled the door to the building open for her, standing aside as she entered. His eyes flickered towards the guard standing just beyond the doorway and he gave the man an infinitesimal nod before taking Ema by the waist and continuing on forward, his attention fixed straight ahead.

"Do you remember Rafael's reaction when David stepped into the execution room, Ema?"

She nodded. She doubted she would ever forget that. "Yeah, he was angry."

"And surprised," he added.

"So?"

"He wasn't expecting David. Klavier lied to Rafael about David's death so that when he did see him, it would be an even bigger shock. It was also meant to stop him from searching for his brother."

"Okay…" Ema intoned, not quite certain where he was going with this.

"As far as I'm aware, there were only a few people in that room," he continued, now turning to look down at her with a thoughtful expression. "We were the only ones who knew about David. Even when he left, his presence at the site was kept secret."

Ema sensed the incomplete thought. "But there's something else?"

"The question here, Em," Deston said quietly, "is how did _Leonardo_ know David's alive?"

Realisation struck with those words and she thought back on the instructions Deston had given Seren. Suddenly the latter's departure made a lot more sense to her detective's mind and she scowled. The idea that there might have been a camera in the execution room made her sick to the stomach: what kind of people would make a video of something like that? What kind of children would watch their father die like that? Surely Rafael hadn't had a hand in such a ploy. What could he gain from letting his daughter watch something like that…?

And suddenly the memory flooded her mind, the words echoing around her head tauntingly:

_My dear, sweet Irina, I beg you! Don't betray your father. Irina… please don't forget me like Deston forgot Raina._

Her mouth dropped open.

_No way._

It had seemed so strange to her when Rafael had uttered those words but she'd put it down to his psychotic mind, the last words of an angry man that wanted to frighten them all. She should have listened to the warning bells that had rung then, should have known nothing Rafael did was without a purpose. Each time he'd threatened one of them, Rafael had been sending a message to Irina, marking them and their friends, their families, one by one.

It hadn't been an act. It had been an instruction: _destroy them all_, is what he'd been saying.

_Oh my God._

"Ema," Deston said, springing her out of her thoughts. She looked at him with horror-struck eyes but he was shaking his head, his hold on her firm. "Relax. Whether or not we're right, there's one thing I know for a fact. We're _not _going to lose this war."

"But—"

"Hey," he cut across her, like he always did when he wanted to stress a point. "You said you aren't scared as long as we're around."

"I'm not," Ema said though nobody could miss the desperation in her voice. "But you—"

"No buts, Em," Deston said resolutely. "Let's just wait and see what they both find. For now," he added, stopping at a door and knocking on it once, "let's just go see K and Daryan. Relax."

She didn't know where she found the strength that it took to take a deep breath and, despite the many questions that were swirling around in her chest, nod compliantly. Maybe it was the fact that she knew Deston was in worse shape than she was emotionally or maybe it was the mention of Klavier's name and the comfort that she was going to see him soon (or maybe it was a combination of all three) but Ema took another deep breath and smiled. "Okay."

"Good." He smiled a warm, heartening smile and it was almost as if the last week hadn't happened, as if he hadn't just been returned the ring of his dead lover. Deston was back: her best friend, the one who knew how to make everything alright. "Just relax. We're going to win this. You'll see. Everything's going to be fine."

_Will we?_

And just then, as if he'd sensed her need for a distraction from the doubt that hit her, the door flung open and Klavier stood there, his posture stiff, his hair dishevelled and his expression blank. But when he saw them both and his face broke into that delighted grin Ema had come to love, she felt the doubts fall away. She had the love of her life in front of her and her best friend by her side. How could she doubt their perseverance?

"_Achtung_! I thought you would never come."


End file.
